Going for the Gold
by bethaboo
Summary: Edward Cullen, an Olympic swimming star, goes to Beijing with winning gold medals on his mind, but is distracted by the beautiful but clumsy reporter he meets on his way. All Human AU, co-written by tameleine.
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note: **Thanks for joining us guys! This is the beginning of a new story co-written by myself and the amazing and awesome tameleine. Hope you enjoy!

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_My arms cut through the water like a hot knife through butter, but as we neared the end of the race, the intensity and speed of the strokes were causing a not-insignificant amount of pain. My lungs burned as the time I was able to breath out of the water decreased as my speed increased._

_I wanted it. I wanted the gold medal so badly I could already feel it around my neck. Why had I ever thought it wouldn't matter? It mattered more than anything else--almost._

_My finger tips hit the wall, finally. I looked up, not towards the all-important scoreboard, but instead, toward the watching crowd, and a certain pair of supportive, brown eyes. . ._

* * *

_Wednesday, August 6th 2008_

BPOV

I didn't consider myself particularly patriotic, but it was hard not to feel a warm surge of feeling as we lifted off from Los Angeles and made our way across the ocean to China, where the 2008 Olympic Games were being hosted in Beijing.

As a journalist, thinking about story angles was natural to me—I did it almost without thinking anymore. The most obvious angle was political, but my writing strengths didn't lie in political analysis. Instead, I liked writing about people and their motivations and goals and weaknesses. I especially liked writing underdog stories—about normal people who triumphed over adversity.

Of course, it made no sense that I was dying to write about Edward Cullen, who couldn't ever be called normal and wouldn't have known adversity if it came up and bit him in the ass. He'd come from a privileged life, had probably some of the best swimming genes you could get, and on top of that, was considered the front-runner by far. Hardly any adversity here, folks. Yet, there was something elemental that fascinated me about him, and though he was one of the most in-demand athletes press-wise in these Olympic Games, I was determined to somehow find out the mystery behind the man during my time in Beijing.

I felt something vibrate under my legs, and opened up my purse to rummage for my cell phone. I clicked on the text message and I smiled as I read what it said.

My best friend Alice and her husband, Jasper, who worked as a photographer with me at the Oregonian newspaper in Portland, Oregon, were also on this flight, but with Alice's high profile job as a merchandiser and designer at Nike, they were sitting in first class, whereas I was relegated to the lowly coach section. Her text had informed me that I'd better get my butt up to visit her as soon as possible, as first, she was dying to see me and second, she had a present for me.

The dying to see me—despite that she'd seen me only thirty minutes before—and the gift were both typical of Alice's enthusiasm. She was an incredibly generous soul, and I loved her for it, though sometimes her depth of her generosity could be embarrassing.

I waited impatiently for the seatbelt light to turn off, doodling on my notepad rather than working on the story ideas I should finish before we landed in Beijing. I was a last minute substitution by the newspaper, as the reporter they were planning to send had broken his leg two days before. I also worked with Jasper Hale, one of the best photographers on staff, so they had agreed to let me go, and had specifically told me to find a unique and special personal angle story. I was supposed to send ideas in as soon as possible, and I couldn't deny I was struggling to find something different to cover. The Olympics were an enormous press event and even considering the vastness of the competition, it was still proving to be difficult to do what I'd been asked.

Not coming up with something wasn't an option. I needed this for my career. A huge feature in the paper would mean my own byline, it would mean a raise, it would mean that I'd finally get where I wanted to be in my life.

I didn't mind so much that there was no boyfriend, no love interest. My whole life was my career and my friends, and while my heart might twinge at how much love vibrated between Alice and Jasper, I'd been Alice's bridesmaid three months ago without a single ounce of jealousy.

Tapping my foot impatiently on the floor, I tried, unsuccessfully to refocus on my pad. From the popping in my ears, I guessed that we were still reaching our flying altitude and that I'd have to wait a while longer to go see what surprise Alice had in store for me.

I barely managed to wait out the next fifteen minutes. I mainly spent it staring out the window, examining the clouds like they were my own personal Rorschach test.

Finally, I heard the stewardess announce that we'd reached our flying elevation and that were free to move about the cabin.

I shot to my feet, and instantly wobbled. _Damn airplanes,_ I thought, _I'm clumsy enough on solid ground._ Managing to regain my balance, I carefully maneuvered into the center aisle using my arms for leverage. Finally, I reached the curtain that separated coach from first class, and was about to slip through it unnoticed, but before I could, the fabric whipped back and I was suddenly face to face with the stewardess.

Her face was starched stiffer than the tacky polyester uniform she was wearing and it had a decidedly orange tinge to it. Alice would have politely pointed out, as a community service, that bronzer was so _three seasons ago_. I merely gaped at being caught and wondered what happened to coach passenger who got caught sneaking up to first class. Did they get thrown off the plane?

_Shit._

The stewardess crossed her arms over a generous and likely hard and silicone-padded chest. Her expression looked hard enough to cut through glass. I winced.

"Miss, if you're a coach passenger, you're going to have to stay in this section."

Great, I was terrible at confrontation. I might as well just turn around and walk back to my seat now.

I was just about ready to do that when I heard a chirping voice behind the towering stewardess.

"Excuse me," it said, "she's with me."

The stewardess's head whipped around, making her second jowl way too apparent. Alice would also have recommended a good surgeon to get that nipped and tucked. She didn't believe in plastic surgery necessarily, but she also didn't believe in double chins.

"Ah, uh. . .are you sure?" The stewardess stepped aside, clearly being given Alice's evil eye. It never failed.

"Of course," Alice snapped, "she's my best friend. What are you, the class police?"

"Oh, no, no, no," she giggled back nervously. "It's just that we have a rather. . .high profile. . .passenger in first class, and we were all told to make sure to keep everyone else. . .out."

My eyebrows raised and I wondered who it was to cause this woman to break out into a surprisingly normal looking flush. Alice would have also told her that she was better off without a whole truckload of blush, but at the moment she was squealing and throwing her arms around me.

I pulled back from my little pixie and sent her a wondering look.

"Oh it's nobody," Alice said breezily, "no one at all. I don't know why they're all so worked up." She sighed and rolled her eyes, grabbing me by the hand and dragging me through the stewardess' station and into the first class cabin.

"Okay," I said dubiously, trying to peer into each set of luxurious and spacious seats without looking like I was looking. Alice might have forgotten momentarily I was a reporter and to her, someone famous was _no big deal_, but to me, it was my job. I needed a big break, and god help me if it was on this plane, I'd drop to my knees and say a few dozen hail Marys.

"Alice," I hissed at her. Suddenly, I didn't want to be taken completely by surprise by some celebrity. I wanted to have some idea of who it was before I went barging into their in-flight snack and demanded interview rights.

Stopping abruptly, she turned to face me. "Believe me, Bella, you don't want me to tell you who it is."

"I don't?" I squeaked.

Alice grinned, and my stomach sank. "Alice," I said firmly, "you need to tell me."

She brushed my comment aside with a wave of her hand. "Trust me, Bella. It's better this way."

I gulped, and we kept walking down the center aisle, my eyes quickly taking in the passengers we passed.

Alice slowed, clearly reaching her seat with Jasper. I could see his tall blond head above the headrest.

My eyes fell on the passengers directly behind Alice and Jasper's seats. There was an older man, maybe in his late 40s but still extraordinarily handsome and fit. I couldn't place his face, but at the same time, I knew I'd seen him before. I wondered offhandedly if maybe this was the "celebrity," but it didn't make sense because from the stewardess' reaction, the someone flying today was famous enough to be recognized on sight, and this man, while familiar, was someone I couldn't identify.

The woman next to him was the same age, but also still very attractive. She was more kind looking than beautiful, with soft brown waves framing her face. Then, my gaze drifted to the third passenger, and my jaw dropped.

Even with his eyes closed, I would have recognized him instantly. It was Edward Cullen, swimmer extraordinaire. The older man was obviously Carlisle Cullen, and the woman, his wife, Esme. Parents to the most famous swimmer of this generation, who was likely to become the greatest Olympian of all time--possibly even greater than his father Carlisle.

Since he was napping I figured I could take five seconds to really look at him, even though I could hear Alice's intake of breath when she realized what I'd stopped for. I'd heard Edward was handsome, and I'd seen dozens and dozens of pictures. The whole country seemed like they were high on Edward Cullen fever, and he was _everywhere_. But all the pictures in the world couldn't prepare me for the sight of him, long lean muscled form stretched out in the seat, his face peaceful and calm.

I'd seen images of his father, Carlisle, when he was young, and though the resemblance was strong, Edward had also inherited Esme's delicate features, and as a result, he was both rugged _and _beautiful. I knew his eyes were bright green, almost like marbles, and I almost wished for half a second that he would open them so I could see them in person, finally.

I sighed. He was gorgeous, but so far out of my league that I might as well be dreaming. I paused for half a second longer, just taking him in, knowing that this was an opportunity I'd never get again. Even if I managed to snag a highly-sought interview spot with him, I'd have to be 100 on my game. No admiring his knee-weakening physique or beautiful eyes or mussy copper hair.

"Bella," Alice demanded, "_stop staring_."

_Just half a second longer,_ I told myself, _then I could stop_. I could walk away from him.

I shook my head briefly at Alice, and went back to my minute examination.

"Bella!" Alice said louder, and it didn't register that those hooded lids were beginning to raise on his face. I was too busy taking in the insane length of his legs, and I didn't catch that he was staring right at me before it was too late.

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, searching for something I could say to apologize for being caught gawking at him, but the words were far beyond my reach.

Alice popped her head over the seat, saving me yet again. "Bella," she fumed, "get _over here_."

"Uh yes, sure," I stumbled, my tongue thick and clumsy. "I'm . . .sorry," I finished lamely at the Greek god who sat there, simply looking at me with a mixture of humor and interest.

I staggered over to Alice and sagged against her. "Oh my god," I whispered frantically to her, "why didn't you stop me?"

She laughed. "Oh, Bella, I _tried_."

"You should have warned me!" My arms were now gesturing and I was beginning to comprehend exactly how I'd just humiliated myself.

I was affronted that Alice merely looked amused. "If I'd told you, you would never have come into first class."

There was no arguing with that. I would have been too nervous to set foot on the other side of the curtain. Now that stewardess' reaction made sense. Edward Cullen was every woman's dream. A fresh wave of humiliation crested over me and I felt myself turning very red.

"It's no matter," Alice said, brushing away my embarrassment like it was meaningless, "don't you want to see what I got you?"

"You'd better be grateful," Jasper chimed in, "you wouldn't believe the lengths she went to get these."

"These?" I asked, "Alice, I told you not to buy me anything else. Especially multiple somethings."

"Hush, hush," she replied, "you'll thank me. Besides, it'll definitely help you do your job better."

My eyebrows raised dubiously and only came crashing down when Alice fished in her purse and handed me a slim envelope. I opened it and felt the breath whoosh out of me.

"Alice," I said in a low voice, "these are tickets to the Water Cube in Beijing. For the swimming." I looked up incredulously. "These were impossible to get. _Impossible._"

Alice bounced up and down, and beamed at me. "Not for a Nike employee who was instrumental in luring Edward Cullen over from Adidas and who had a hand in designing his new suit."

"That's what you've been doing in California these past few weeks?" I gaped.

Alice had the nerve to look very self-satisfied and smug. "You betcha."

"Oh. Wow. I . . .I don't know if I can accept these, Alice. They're worth a fortune." I halfway extended the tickets back towards her, even though it nearly broke me to do it, but she waved my hand away.

"Nonsense, I got them for you, and they'll come in real handy with your job."

"How'd you even know I'd be coming to Beijing?" I asked, suspicion dawning.

Jasper chimed in, laughter in his voice. "Bella, it's not like we broke Mike Newton's leg on purpose. That was a total accident. But we'd been planning to have you come with us all along. You getting to go for work is just a lucky break for you. This is going to make your career."

I rolled my eyes in Jasper's direction. "Thanks, but really. I hope I can manage to come up with something they're interested in having in the paper."

Alice squeezed my hand reassuringly. "You will. I have no doubt about that." I watched as she exchanged a rather suspicious look with Jasper but I chose not to say anything.

Instead, I threw my arms around her in appreciation, except that instead of returning the hug, she nearly hopped into my arms, sending me staggering backwards. I wasn't very coordinated on my best day, but having an extra body to support was bad all around. Even more so, because at that very moment, the plane hit a pocket of air and the combination of Alice and the turbulence sent me flying backwards.

I hit the stewardess who'd been leaning over the seats behind me, handing out drinks. I turned around only to see her lose her balance and drop a full glass of liquid all over Edward Cullen. She gasped and I think I did too.

The stewardess, clearly still annoyed with my interference from earlier, turned an angry red and launched into attack mode.

"Miss," she said, patronizing anger in her voice, "there is no rough-housing in the first class section or really in _any section _of this plane."

There was a clear throat-clearing and we both turned toward the sound. It was Edward Cullen, pointedly looking at his very wet jeans.

The stewardess immediately fell all over herself, my intrusion clearly forgotten, in her zeal to wipe up all the dampness on Edward's crotchal area.

The accident had woken up both Carlisle and Esme, who sat there with jaws hanging open, as the overly-enthusiastic stewardess put her hands all over their cringing son.

My eyes met Edward's and while he definitely looked annoyed, there was more there, that I couldn't exactly place. It couldn't have been attraction. Edward Cullen wouldn't be interested in me if I was the last woman on earth.

I started to turn away, but the movement must have caught the stewardess' eye because her attention snapped back to me and the ingratiating expression on her face was replaced by one of scorn.

"You," she ordered rather angrily, "need to go back to coach, immediately."

I wanted to die of humiliation all over again. Edward was clearly taking in everything this woman was saying, and now he knew that I didn't belong here. I belonged in coach, with the rest of the regular, normal people. Not up here, with the rest of the exalted personages.

Alice shrugged slightly, and I knew it was time to return to my seat, but I hated being chased out of here like I didn't belong.

_Stupid, _I told myself, _of course you don't belong here._

Resignedly, I started to walk back down the aisle, the stewardess glaring at me all the while. Though as I walked back to the curtain, I thought I felt someone else looking at me. I turned my head slightly, hoping to catch whoever it was in the act, and praying it wasn't some curious observer, wondering what I'd done to get kicked out of first class.

My brown eyes met candy apple green ones and a small smile played over his face as he watched me. It was _Edward Cullen_. He was watching me. It was all I could do to turn back and make my way through the curtain that separated us.

When I finally made it back to my seat, I felt breathless. I couldn't believe that he had been watching me. Maybe he was just curious to see who the idiot was who'd basically dumped water all over him.

Of course, if I'd had a bit of a crush on him before, it was full-blown now, despite that I'd probably never even get a chance to speak to him, especially after what just happened. Still, I had a few of those soul-searching looks from his incredible green eyes, and I'd gotten to watch him while he slept. _That_, I reasoned, _was more than enough._

I settled back down in my seat, and pulled out my pad again, determined to get something down before we landed in Beijing.

Approximately fourteen hours later, my legs cramping from sitting for so long, the pilot finally announced that we were about to land in Beijing. Gathering my pad, which was still frustratingly blank except for a lot of doodles, I said a quick prayer of relief that they let the first class passengers exit first. With any luck, they'd whisk Edward Cullen and family quickly out of the terminal to avoid the press, and I'd avoid having to see him again, with my clumsiness still so fresh in his mind.

Maybe later in the week I'd gather some more nerve and manage to get his attention while we were at the Water Cube. Despite everything that had happened on the flight, I was still eager to figure out exactly what made Edward Cullen tick. I reasoned that this was a good excuse for not having any story ideas yet. I had tickets to the Water Cube and I could maybe waylay Edward and convince him to do an interview. I knew he hated the press, but maybe I'd seem less threatening considering all the crap so far.

Making my way out of the plane, I was thrilled to be on Chinese soil finally. I'd gotten my passport first thing when I'd been hired by the Oregonian, but this was the first stamp I'd be able to put in it. I'd never been out of the US before, except for Canada, and I was ridiculously excited.

I looked around for Jasper and Alice, but didn't see them on the concourse, so I decided to head down to the luggage pickup. The airport was swarming with people, and it was hard to maneuver around. Finally, I located the luggage carousel, but with all the people around, I still couldn't find Alice or Jasper. Digging out my cell phone from my purse, I was grateful I'd managed to get it authorized for international use just hours before I'd boarded the plane. I would have felt lost without it.

I dialed Alice's number but it rang several times and I heard it go to voice-mail. _Damn_.

What was the point of having our cell phones work in China if Alice didn't answer hers? I grumbled to myself.

Finally, the luggage carousel started rolling and I kept a close eye on it, hoping that I'd spot either Alice or Jasper as they stepped up to it to get their belongings. Unfortunately, there was so many people swarming the conveyor belt, I still didn't see them.

To top off my frustration, my luggage was nearly the last to show up. I groaned as I hefted my duffel off the conveyor belt, and realized that I was going to need one of those cart things if I had to search the airport for Alice and Jasper.

I grabbed one from the nearest receptacle and loaded up my luggage, trying not to worry that it was precariously balanced and blocked most of my frontal view. I figured that most people would just get out of the way if they saw me coming--at least that was my hope anyway.

Reaching into my pocket for my cell phone, I pushed ahead the cart a little, glad that the crowd in this part of the airport had died down a little. At least I was less liable to hit anyone. Glancing down, I dialed Alice's number _yet again_. Still steering my cart toward the main terminal, I quickly dove for the laptop bag that was about to fall off.

Paying attention to where I was going was not my strong suit in the best of times. In a strange airport with a piled-high luggage cart, while dialing Alice constantly, and trying to find signs to the main terminal in English was not the best of times. I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised when, while looking at my cell phone, I heard a loud crash in front of me, followed by several swear words.

"Oh no!" I exclaimed, immediately stopping the cart, and rushing around to the front to see what or who I'd run over.

My heart sank when I saw who it was. Was I truly this unlucky? How many times was I required by fate to humiliate myself today?

He was bent over, examining his foot, which I'd clearly run over, but I would have known him anywhere.

Edward Cullen. That bright head of hair was way too recognizable, and unfortunately for my sanity, sent me into palpitations.

He uncoiled his body, and looked me straight in the eye.

"You," he said, not looking nearly as surprised as I was.

I could only nod, afraid that if I let myself open my mouth, my general reaction to dire circumstances, which was hysterical laughter, would be unleashed.

Edward frowned, running his hand through his hair. "You know, you should really watch where you're going."

"I know," I nearly interrupted him, "I'm so sorry."

Instead of continuing to look angry, he instead flashed me a bright smile. "Clumsy, are we?"

That did me in. A small giggle escaped my lips, followed by a cascade of them. The long flight where I hadn't been able to sleep, the lack of real food, the embarrassment, all caught up with me, and I began laughing hysterically.

That was apparently the last reaction he'd expected out of me, because I'd never seen anyone look so surprised.

I sagged against the cart, unable to control the hysterical laughter coursing through me. I hated this reaction of mine, and I knew until I got it all out, there was no stopping it.

"Hey," Edward said, coming over to me, "are you okay?"

"I should be asking you that," I managed between gales of laughter.

"Oh me? I'm fine. Though if Carlisle had seen you do that, you might have been locked up in a Chinese dungeon."

"Run over your toe?"

He nodded, and smiled almost self-deprecatingly. "You obviously know who I am."

I rolled my eyes, managing to get ahold of myself a little bit. "Uh, yeah. You're pretty famous."

Sighing, he ran his hands through his hair again, this time making it stand nearly straight up.

"What?" I barely got out, "what's so bad about being famous?"

Edward simply pointed to the badge I had wearing around my neck, clearly identifying me as press. I hadn't been wearing it earlier when I'd been in first class, but had put it on prior to disembarking from the plane.

"You hate the press?"

"Are we off the record?" he countered. I almost felt sorry for him. I knew how rabid my fellow reporters were, and he'd clearly discovered that the bad way.

"Of course," I insisted, "do you really think we'd be on the record after I cause a whole glassful of water to be spilled on you and then I ran over your golden toe with my luggage?"

"Really, it's fine," he insisted.

"It better be," I smiled conspiratorially in return, grateful that I had managed to stop laughing. "If I was responsible for killing your toe right before the Olympics I'd get tarred and feathered and run out of town."

"I'd never allow that," he responded, seriously, but with a twinkle in his green eyes.

As our conversation continued, a strange thought entered my consciousness. Were we flirtin_g_? _No_, I told myself firmly, _that was patently impossible. He was just being nice._

"Well, good," I stumbled, suddenly uncomfortable with myself in front of him.

"Isabella Swan, where have you been?" I turned toward the pixie-ish voice, and felt an enormous wave of relief that Alice had showed up just then. I'd been about to fall on my face just from the thought that Edward Cullen might be flirting with me.

Alice was standing there, hands on her hips, looking as stern as she could. Jasper was behind her, face contorted in laughter, his hands on a huge cart piled full with luggage. Trust Alice to bring her entire wardrobe to Beijing.

"And Edward Cullen!" she exclaimed, "fancy seeing you here."

He shrugged noncommittally. "We were on the same flight," he said offhandedly. I figured this was his way of nicely reminding Alice that I'd been both caught gawking at him and had also caused him to get soaking wet.

"Ah yes," she replied, "that's right." She turned to me. "Are you ready to find a taxi Bella?"

"Yep," I enthused, more than ready to extricate myself out of this situation. As amazing looking as Edward Cullen was, he made me nervous as a cat.

"Okay then, let's go. And we'll see you later, Edward!" she called with enthusiasm. He waved slightly and began walking away.

I tried to suppress the disappointment. I was sure that this was probably the last time I'd be able to talk to him just as one person to another. Next time he saw me he'd be on his best "press" behavior. I sighed, and tried to think that this was for the best. I was here to be a reporter. He was here to swim and win gold medals and try to protect the bulk of who he was from people just like me. Even if there had been a spark between us, we were from two entirely different worlds.

* * *

EPOV

I shut my laptop and pinched the bridge of my nose. Studying the strokes of Jacob Black was certainly tedious, but was essential to accomplishing the plan I had laid out after Athens. I glanced over at my father and mother sitting in the seats opposite me. How my father had won that many medals was a mystery to me. At the time, he not only was married to my mom, but had me as well. I couldn't afford such distractions if I wanted to be the greatest—to be like my dad.

At the age of two, I had watched as he led the United States swim team to victory. Unable to fully understand the magnitude of what he had done, but fully appreciating the shiny gold medals he had hanging around his neck, I'd vowed to be just like daddy someday. Eight years later, my reasoning had changed, but the desire remained. It was up to me to carry on the Cullen name in the swimming world so I mapped out my Olympic dreams. Yes, I wanted to win, to become one of the greatest swimmers in history, but more importantly, I wanted to make my father proud.

Stowing my laptop back in its case, I put it safely under my seat. Seeing the approaching stewardess, I closed my eyes to feign sleep, hoping she would leave me alone. She had been fawning over me since I boarded the plane, and I'd had enough. Tuning out her whiny voice as she asked others around me what they wanted to drink, I began going over the meet in my mind. Six races, five gold medals. This was my plan. While I knew that I could easily surpass my father's record, it would be wrong to me. My father was the greatest man I knew and no one, especially not me, could ever live up to that.

Finally managing to tune out my thoughts, I drifted off to sleep. Moments later, a commotion behind me began to intrude. I heard the annoyingly whiny voice of the stewardess directing someone to go back to their seat. Suddenly a chirpy voice I knew quite well interrupted. Of course! Alice Hale was on this plane and she generally caused ruckus wherever she went with her bouncy personality and zest for life.

I felt the women brush by me and the light footsteps suddenly stopped. A small sigh came a few seconds later, and it was all I could do not to open my eyes and see what was going on. My fear of crazed fans invading first class and asking for autographs kept my curiosity at bay for the moment.

I fought a grin as Alice hissed at the mystery woman to stop staring. Figuring she'd turn away then, I began to open my eyes hoping to at least catch a glimpse of the curious stranger. A small woman with long mahogany hair was currently looking down at my legs. I watched, amused as she registered that I was no longer sleeping but watching her openly staring at me.

Her eyes met mine, and a jolt went through me. Her eyes were a deep brown color, full of intelligence and humor. As I watched, a fascinating red color began to invade her cheeks and she ducked her head in embarrassment. The woman was beautiful and I was instantly intrigued,

"Bella!" Alice Hale said, popping her head over her seat. "Get over here!"

_Ah—so that was her name. Bella, meaning beautiful. It fit her perfectly._

"I'm sorry." she said as she began to hurry away. Her voice struck a chord within me. It was somehow musical with a soft, mellow tone to it. Like everything else about her, it was lovely. Before I could stop her, she was gone.

I sat back in my seat and tried to clear my thoughts. _Distraction, that's what she is. You don't need anything in your life that would cause you to lose your focus. Remember your goal!_ I frantically ran through the reasons in my head why I could not pursue her.

Finally I convinced myself that my reasoning was sound. Eager to shut out the outside world, I put on my headphones and turned on my favorite classical music. As the lilting strains of Debussy filled my ears, I imagined the face of Bella in my mind.

Halfway through Claire De Lune, the peace was shattered as water landed right on my lap. I let out a gasp as the freezing liquid began to seep through my clothes. I gasped and sat up straight in my seat, opening my eyes. I froze as I met the extremely apologetic brown eyes of Bella once again.

Before I could say anything, the stewardess launched her attack, berating Bella harshly about the accident. Protective feelings overwhelmed me. I had to do something to stop the verbal onslaught against her, so I pointedly cleared my throat and glanced down at my soaked lap.

Unfortunately, while I succeeded in distracting the woman from yelling at Bella, her attention was turned to me. This put me in a decidedly uncomfortable situation as the stewardess launched herself practically into my lap, wiping me down with a wad of paper napkins from her nearby cart.

I straightened up, trying in vain to remove the overeager woman from my lap. Over her head, I met the eyes of a prettily blushing Bella. Although I very well should have been annoyed with her because it was obvious she was the reason I was in this predicament, I couldn't muster up any aggravation. Too bad that I didn't have the time to get to know her.

Finally, I succeeded in pushing the stewardess away from me, only to have her relaunch her attack on Bella. After ordering her out of the first class, she smiled smugly at me then turned to make sure that Bella did indeed walk through the curtains separating first class from coach.

As I watched her walk away, a feeling of loss came over me. Shrugging it off, I took not of the slight sway of her slim hips as she disappeared. Before the curtains closed, she looked back and her eyes met mine. I couldn't help the smile that came to my face. She seemed to be just like her friend Alice, who I knew firsthand caused chaos whenever she was around. Granted, I had only seen her in two situations, but they were two highly amusing, and possibly embarrassing situations to her.

As she left my sight, all my previous feelings about focus and distractions disappeared. I needed to see her again, it was as essential as breathing. I found myself plotting ways to see her again throughout the remainder of my flight. Once I was in Beijing, I knew my chances were slim to none. I would have too little time to go seeking one small brunette in a sea of people.

My first plan was to just invade the coach section just as she had invaded first class. I knew I could easily spot her shiny hair and those captivating eyes amongst the crowd. I rejected this quickly, knowing that if I went back there, my easily recognizable face would cause a commotion and I wouldn't be allowed near her. Next, I decided I would ask Alice Hale for an introduction. I disregarded this plan even quicker than the last. Somehow I suspected that if Alice Hale knew I was even the slightest bit interested in her friend, her devious little mind would go into match-maker mode. Wanting to avoid that at all costs, I thought up other scenarios on my head.

Finally, I decided on the one that would make the most sense. I would simply wait until her section was disembarking and then walk off with her. I would be very careful to hide my face so I wouldn't be noticed, and then surely I would get a chance to talk to her. At the very least, perhaps I could find out if she was single, though I had a feeling that somehow she was. Of course, that didn't matter to me because I wasn't looking for distractions. I just merely hoped to hear that gorgeous voice again.

Finally, the plane landed and I eagerly sat up to wait. I watched dreaming of her angel face as the other first class passengers prepared to leave the plane. "Edward?" my father's thoughts intruded on my fantasies. _Damn it!_ I'd forgotten about my parents. There was no way that I would allow my father or mother to see my interest in Bella. They would push for a relationship with her which was something I could not allow. For some reason, they felt that I needed someone in my life—a female someone in particular. Since they were so gloriously happy and in love, they felt that everyone needed that to be complete. Though I'd argued with them about my lack of companionship many times, I had not managed to convince them that I was truly happy with my life just the way it was.

I sighed and stood up, stretching my long legs and bouncing a bit to get the circulation flowing. As slowly as I could, without being obvious, I began to gather my things. After securing my laptop and headphones back in the case, meticulously wrapping the cords as neatly as possible, I gave up my quest. My father and mother were both still staring at me curiously, although I noticed a slightly speculative gleam in Mom's eyes. Not wanting her to think too long or hard about my uncharacteristic behavior, I quickly took action. There was no miracle forthcoming that would allow me to see Bella again. I slowly followed my father and mother out of the plane, defeated again.

Not able to help myself, I continued to scan the hordes of people moving through customs. Unfortunately, I was unable to spot her. As soon as I had my stamp on my already full passport, I headed toward the baggage claim. "Stay here, and I'll go get the luggage. We don't want you to strain your back," my father directed, as he darted off through the crowds.

"Carlisle wait! You forgot your tickets. Remember they are checking the ticket names with the luggage?" my mom darted quickly after him, leaving me standing by myself and hoping to remain inconspicuous.

I glanced down, hoping to avoid the gazes of any curious passersby. Still regretting that I hadn't had at least one more chance to talk to Bella, I began to imagine the scenario that could have taken place had the odds not been stacked against us. I would have walked up to her, calmly and deliberately and confidently introduced myself. Of course, she would be pleased to be meeting me, Edward Cullen, star of the Olympic Swim Team. I would have taken her tiny, soft hand into mine and gazed into her beautiful brown eyes. It wouldn't matter what was said next, because she would be just as thrilled to be near me, as I was to her. We would talk for awhile, about inconsequential things that people talk about as they get to know one another. Then...

I gasped in shock and pain as a very heavy luggage cart came to rest directly on top of my foot. Pushing it back, I bent over to examine my very valuable feet. It didn't hurt badly, but I wanted to be sure that nothing serious was wrong. I glanced up as I was standing, wanting to see the culprit, yet somehow knowing who I would find.

"You!" I said, not surprised to find myself looking into the startled and very worried eyes of Bella. I couldn't help the small smile that came to my mouth.

She nodded, and I found myself wondering how often these sort of accidents happened to her. She really needed to be more careful to keep herself safe. "You know, you really should watch where you're going" I said, some of the frustration I was feeling leaking into my tone.

"I know! I'm so sorry," she replied apologetically.

Suddenly I was no longer annoyed with her capacity for finding trouble. She was here, which was what I had been dreaming of for 15 long hours. "Clumsy, are we?" I said, grinning now.

To my satisfaction she smiled, and then a giggle escaped her. Her laugh drove me crazy, the notes registering along my spine. It was so pretty, and the way she looked with her head thrown back, joy on her face was simply intoxicating. It surprised me how she could go from extreme humiliation to such joy so quickly.

Suddenly, she bent over her cart, half collapsing. I was concerned for a moment that exhaustion from the flight had caught up with her. That would explain the hysterical laughter. "Are you okay?" I asked her as I took a step nearer.

"I should be asking you that!" she answered, still giggling breathlessly.

"Oh me? I'm fine. Though if Carlisle had seen you do that, you might have been locked up in a Chinese dungeon." I grinned at the image of my often overprotective father witnessing her run me down.

"Run over your toe?"

"You obviously know who I am." Of course she would know who I was. That left me at a distinct disadvantage because I still wasn't supposed to know her name.

She rolled her eyes at me, a bit sarcastically I thought. "Uh yeah. You're pretty famous." Suddenly I noticed the bright white badge hanging from her neck. Of course the most intriguing woman I had ever met would be part of the press. I sighed and ran my hands through my hair, a nervous gesture I'd never quite managed to quell.

"What? What's so bad about being famous?" she countered to my actions.

In answer I pointed to the shiny white badge I had grown to despise. I could barely keep the scowl off my face.

"You hate the press?"

"Are we off record?" I desperately hoped so, hoped that her running into me was truly an accident rather than a ploy to get an interview with me.

"Of course, do you really think we'd be on the record after I cause a whole glassful of water to be spilled on you and then I run over your golden toe with my luggage?"

I sighed in relief. She certainly seemed sincere to me, and no one could mistake the truthfulness of her gaze. "Really, its fine." I replied, not quite able to contain my own smile of relief.

"It better be, if I was responsible for killing your toe right before the Olympics I'd get tarred and feathered and run out of town."

Finally she'd left me with an opening to show my interest! "I'd never allow that." I told her, hoping that she would notice how much I meant it.

Suddenly, a strange look crossed her face. She looked...worried or incredulous, I wasn't sure which. "Well, good" she said almost hesitantly to me.

An annoyingly cheerful voice I recognized as belonging to the sometimes pesky Alice Hale intruded into our conversation. I turned toward her and had to smile. She was standing with both hands on her hips, looking quite perturbed with Bella. A blond man who I assumed was her husband, was standing behind her pushing a cart piled extremely high with luggage. It was a wonder that it didn't topple over completely. I doubted I had ever seen that amount of luggage for two people in my life. The man was laughing from what I assumed was due to his wifes' energetic antics.

After glaring at Bella for a moment, she turned her sights on me. "And Edward Cullen! Fancy seeing you here."

Smirking, I shrugged my shoulders and answered her despite the fact that it was quite obvious why we had run into each other. "We were on the same flight."

"Ah yes," she replied, "that's right. Are you ready to find a taxi Bella?" I smiled again. She really was great at playing the innocent. Almost, I turned to Bella to stop her, to find out where she would be staying, but the inner voice inside my head suddenly came to life once more.

_Focus. You need to focus and concentrate. Distractions cannot be allowed if you want to fulfill your dreams. _I sighed. At least I would be able to see her again from a distance at the press conferences.

Spying my mom and dad coming towards me, luggage piled high on the cart, I quickly flashed a smile at the trio and with a quick wave, turned away. A wave of disappointment flashed through me as I began to walk away from her, but I kept going. Somehow, I knew that if I saw her again, all my resolve to stay focused on my goals would dissolve with just one of her incredible smiles in my direction.

As I neared, my mom and dad gave me curious smiles. "Who were those people you are talking to? Fans?" My mom asked curiously.

"No. The woman with the dark, spiky hair is Alice Hale. You remember her, mom. She designed my racing suit." I left out any mention of Bella. Somehow, my mom had always been able to read me quite well.

"Oh, now I remember! She's quite the spunky little thing, isn't she? Who was the other woman?" We were now entering dangerous territory.

Turning away to hide my face from her, I answered. "Oh, she's Alice's friend. Actually, we never made it to the introductions. She's with the press." I kept my voice neutral, and was satisfied when my mom let it go.

As we stepped outside into the heavily polluted Beijing air, I felt a shiver of excitement. This is what I was born for—to compete in the Olympics just like my dad. I knew I would succeed, there just wasn't any other option. I began to refocus my thoughts on the races ahead of me, yet as we boarded the taxi, I couldn't help but glance around for a glimpse of long mahogany hair and warm, chocolate brown eyes.

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**please review guys!!  
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	2. Chapter 2

HEY GUYS!! tamelaine and I are so excited to give you guys the second chapter of _Going for the Gold_. We've decided, after Chapter 1, to start a new format. You'll notice a slight change in heading of the first chapter, but it's still EXACTLY the same story. Each chapter will start with a date--actually following the Olympic schedule this year in Beijing and coinciding with the swimming events.

Also, instead of collaborating on a single chapter, the way we did with the first chapter, we are going to be each writing a single chapter, switching off. There will sometimes be several chapters per day, depending on how much is going on. The POVs will be almost exclusively Bella and Edward, though there will be a few surprises thrown in. We sat down this week and planned out the WHOLE STORY so it will get done, I promise, though we do appreciate your guys' patience becuase we also have stories we are writing seperately.

Since Tami is going to be gone this week, I tackled this chapter, but she has totally been awesome--being supportive and coming up with a few GREAT ideas.

Also, a song that goes both with this chapter and really with the whole story in general is "Straight Lines" by Silverchair. There's a link on my profile page.

As always, thanks for your AMAZING reviews and support!

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_Thursday, August 7th 2008_

EPOV

"Dad, we've been over this again and _again_. I missed the Opening Ceremony in Athens. I don't want to miss it in Beijing too. I plan on going to London, but it's hard to say if I'll actually make it there. I want to get as much of the Olympic experience as I can _now_," I grumbled to my father.

Esme looked worriedly at Carlisle as I shifted uncomfortably in the cab seat. Both my mother and I were anxious to hear his answer. It had been her suggestion to try asking him one last time as we waited for Carlisle to find a cab. Esme's greatest wish was for me to not only win gold medals but to have an unforgettable experience while doing it. Often her ideas clashed with Carlisle's training methods, and I was forced to walk a thin line between the two of them.

The Opening Ceremony and marching in the Parade of Nations was something Esme had greatly wanted for me in Athens and in Beijing her desire just as great, and so was mine. I felt as if I were depriving myself and the fans who were dying to see me, but in previous discussions, Carlisle had been inexorable and Esme had failed to make any headway.

And so it came down to one last plea. I was always telling my dad that I wanted a more normal life—and his response was generally that I should have picked a more normal _way of life_. I couldn't deny that maybe he was right, but then I would remember, the memories so vivid, the Olympics where I'd watched him swim. He'd had Esme, and they'd had me. I saw that as pretty normal.

Carlisle sighed. I knew he hated being hard-nosed on things like this, but almost nobody else could fully understand the sacrifices Olympic glory demanded quite like Carlisle—though I was learning, since I was determined to follow in his footsteps.

"Edward, I really think it would be unwise for you to march in the Parade. You need to rest, to focus, to concentrate."

I was so sick of those three words.

"Fine," I replied shortly, refusing to meet Esme's sympathetic gaze. I didn't want anyone to feel sorry for me. I'd chosen this path—this was always what I'd wanted.

We pulled up to the entrance of my Village building, and I could feel rather than see Carlisle's frown.

Carlisle, remembering his own experience, had wanted me to stay with him and Esme in the hotel. Less distractions that way, he'd said firmly to me right after the Olympic Trials, when it had become apparent to everyone that I really _was _going to attempt this, and he'd been full of ideas of what I should and shouldn't do to prepare.

I'd stayed at the hotel in Athens, four years before, and I'd done well, winning two golds, a silver and a bronze, but that hadn't been enough to really satisfy my thirst for glory. I wanted _more_.

Which was why I found myself today in Beijing, in the Olympic Village against Carlisle's wishes, attempting an insane program of six events over the next nine days. There would be very little time for myself and no room for distractions of any kind.

Especially ones with soulful brown eyes, long silky hair, and lips that were the incredible deep pink of my mother's roses.

_You've done it now_, I told myself, _you let your mind go there and now it's not going to stop again._

I remembered a point, before I got on the plane to fly to Beijing, when I'd had some form of mental control. That point had long passed, somewhere over the Pacific Ocean, when I'd woken up to find those brown eyes looking at me with most intriguing curiosity.

When she'd run over my toe, I almost asked her if she could run over the other one while she was at it. Maybe the pain would have snapped me out of mooning after her like an idiot.

"Edward?" Esme asked hesitantly as I climbed out of the cab, "would you like us to come with you to your building? We can ask the cab to wait."

Her face was so hopeful that I hated saying no. I looked my dad in the eye and he understood immediately and nodding briefly, he turned to my mother and grasped her hand in his.

"Esme, darling. Edward needs to unpack, get settled in, and focus. Most of all get some rest. He didn't sleep _at all_ on the plane." Carlisle looked at me pointedly and I knew I was going to get interrogated about that later.

I was a sleeping legend on the US Swim Team. Nothing ever affected my ability to sleep anywhere, at any time, whenever there was a few minutes to spare. I just hoped that this _hiccup _I had experienced on the flight was a minor one. The last thing I needed during this grueling upcoming week and a half was a sudden inability to sleep.

"Okay," Esme relented, giving me a bright smile to reassure my conscience that her feelings weren't hurt. I flashed her my all-too famous grin back and I saw her smile deepen into a genuine one. Carlisle might be my coach, but my mother was the greatest cheering section a man could have ever hoped to have. I never would have made it this far without her by my side.

Carlisle nodded reassuringly, and I went back to the trunk to grab my bags, waving away the driver's assistance. I had more muscle on my pinky finger, it seemed, than he did in his whole body.

Hefting the bags, I walked towards the front door and it slid open silently and quickly. So far, though I'd seen very little of the country, I was impressed by how high tech everything was. Every country tried to put their best foot forward for the Olympics, but China had particularly impressed me so far.

Heading into the main lobby, I was greeted by the staggering cacophony of different languages being spoken. I stopped by the concierge kiosk to get my room number assignment.

I decided to take the stairs instead of the elevator. My legs still felt crampy and I was dying to stretch them out. Maybe I'd head over to the pool early after settling in and taking a nap.

I already knew I was rooming with Tyler Crowley, one of my rivals and friends from the US Swim Team. I swiped my key card, and as I balanced my luggage, swung open the door.

Loud music pumped through the air from a portable iPod dock sitting on a side table.

_Britney Spears? What?_

I wondered if I'd walked into the wrong room and I craned my neck around, trying to find Tyler. As far as I knew, he liked pretty generic rap music—which was something I teased him to no end about. I was kind of a music snob, but even rap was better than this and it wasn't even classic _hot _Britney, but new_, messed up_ Britney. Fantastic.

I took a few steps farther into the room, really beginning to think I'd somehow been given the wrong room number and card key by the concierge, and the music crashed over me. I was definitely a music snob but, as I continued to listen, I decided that the beat wasn't half bad, though the breathy half-lyrics were _awful_. In fact, as much as I hated to admit it, my hips were twitching back and forth a little to the catchy thumps that punctuated the chorus.

I heard a rustling in the entryway to what must have been the second bedroom, and I turned, and felt the oxygen whoosh out of my lungs.

There was a _naked man _dancing around, with his back to me, and he was shaking his _ass_ to the music. And it was Tyler. _God._

I felt a sudden and horrible pain in my foot, and I almost couldn't force my eyes to look down to see what had caused it. The image searing my retinas was like a train wreck—I couldn't look away, yet it seemed _wrong _to keep staring.

Finally, the fear that I'd managed to hurt myself worse than Bella could made me glance down from the rump-shaking extravaganza. It was then I realized that the luggage I'd been holding in my hand had apparently dropped instantaneously out of my hand at the sight I'd witnessed and had landed on my uninjured toe. _Great. Yet another reason for Carlisle to be upset—two broken toes._

Tyler twirled the towel that had probably at one point been around his waist in time to the music, and I grabbed my luggage off my foot and backed towards the doorway.

I couldn't find my voice so I could yell his name. It was still stuck in the back of my throat, paralyzed with shock. Not that he could probably hear me over Britney anyway.

The dancing continued, followed by a successive series of pelvic thrusts that made me grimace and feel more than a little gay for continuing to watch. Of course, eventually he was going to turn around and realize that I'd been watching him shake his ass. That wouldn't make things between us uncomfortable or anything.

I'd been so glad to finally have a friend that wasn't ridiculously older than I was, and here I was, ready to ruin it because his naked ass shaking had me mesmerized.

Actually, I corrected myself, it wasn't the nakedness or the ass that had me mesmerized. I was petrified of what was going to happen when he turned around and that fear kept me unfortunately rooted in place, unable to really _do _anything to prevent the inevitable.

The song drew to a close, and I was still standing there, struck dumb, mentally cursing Esme and Carlisle for not socially acclimating myself better. Maybe someone with a more normal social life, and well, just life in general, would know how to handle this better.

Tyler began to turn around, probably to go change the song on iPod, and my mouth opened and closed a few times in desperation.

Finally I managed to gasp out "Tyler!" before he could turn around and be completely surprised that I was staring at his naked butt.

He whipped around and instantly the hand holding the towel went to his waist to shield himself from my view. If only I hadn't already seen too much.

"GAH!!" he screamed in shock, "what the hell are you doing here?"

"This is my room too," I pointed out, hoping that he wouldn't ask how long I'd been standing there, watching him shake his bon-bon like Ricky Martin.

Tyler rubbed his head with his free hand and had the intelligence to look more than a little embarrassed. Carefully rearranging and wrapping his towel around his waist, he turned the iPod off, and turned to face me again.

"Man, I'm sorry, Eddie. . ." he trailed off, looking for what I assumed was my reassurance that it was okay and that I wasn't going to make public his weakness for getting jiggy with Miss Britney Spears.

"No problem," I hastily replied, "nobody has to know about. . .that." I had no idea what to call the display I'd just seen without somehow insulting Tyler. Of course, maybe that was what he deserved. Still, it wasn't my job to pass judgment on what the man liked to do after a good shower.

"Great," he nodded, clearly relieved. "I'm going to go walk around the Village a little bit, scope out some foreign beauties. You want to come with?"

_Only_, I thought, _if the beauty is not foreign and is a brown-eyed journalist_.

"No, I actually think I'm going to try to rest for awhile before practice. I couldn't sleep on the plane."

Tyler had already turned to go towards his room, hopefully to put some damn clothes on, and he stopped in his tracks. _Uh oh._

"You couldn't sleep?"

Tyler and I had been friends for a few years now. He'd joined the team around the same I did, though he was a year older, and he knew me well enough to know my ability to sleep anywhere, at any time.

"Are you okay?" he asked, worry lines creasing his face at my lack of an answer.

Absolutely not. I've been struck dead by a pair of brown eyes and a whole lot of dark hair. Unfortunately this vision wears a press pass and is already making me so distracted I can't sleep, right before the possibly biggest week of my life.

"I'm fine," I said shortly. "Just going to get some rest now." I was still praying that sleep would be forthcoming, because even though I _felt _tired, my mind was going a thousand thoughts per minute and 99 of them were Bella-related.

"Sounds good, man. Catch you later," Tyler called over his shoulder as he retreated into his room and the door shut. _Thank god._

If Tyler found out that I was so distracted I couldn't sleep, he'd mention it to Carlisle, who would in turn dismantle me.

Dragging my luggage into the other empty bedroom, I took in my surroundings. The room resembled a nicer dormitory, with its austere white walls and clean simple lines.

The living room area that the front door opened to was mostly white, with a few touches of green to break up the monotony. The furniture was nearly austere: just one couch, an uncomfortable looking chair and an empty coffee table. There were two bedrooms, each with a bed, dresser and a small desk with a matching chair.

Actually I was glad everything was so simple. I needed to be distracted as little as possible when I came to my room—sleep was my main goal when I was here. I quickly unpacked my suitcases, and stripping down to my boxers, laid down in the bed. I was gratified to see that even though I was nearly 6'5", my feet didn't hang off the edge of the bed. I hated it when that happened. At home I slept in a huge California king, and I was used to being able to spread out so getting used to sleeping on this tiny twin size bed was certainly going to be interesting.

_Good thing there wouldn't be anyone joining me in this bed_, I thought as I rolled over.

I stopped midroll. _Shit_.

I needed to stop thinking about her. This was getting more than a little ridiculous. She was just a girl. _A woman_, I reminded myself, _a beautiful, intelligent, fascinating woman_.

I clamped my eyes shut and wrapped a pillow around my head as if I could possibly externally block out my internal thoughts.

Two hours later, I had counted thousands of sheep, played a game of Sudoku in my head, and had internally recited the alphabet backwards more times than I cared to remember.

This was no longer ridiculous. It wasn't even ludicrous. It was just _bad_.

I'd watched the clock tick by second by second, and I was so frustrated I wanted to throw it against the wall and watch it satisfyingly shatter.

Despite every guard against it, my mind was still full of Bella, and it wasn't even like I had a large number of memories to pull from. I had two. Well three, if I wanted to count the time I'd caught her staring at me.

I wondered, again, for about the fiftieth time this hour, if that meant that she thought I was handsome. If she wanted to get to know me better. Of course, now that I knew she was press, it was hard to say whether she liked _me _or if she liked the number of papers she could sell with my help.

Frustrated beyond anything I'd experienced in years, I tried to tell myself that I was renowned through my sport for my legendary drive and my ability to control both my mind and my body as I pleased. _Ha_, I thought wryly, _what would they say if they could see me now._

Finally, in utter despair at my inability to shut my mind off, and knowing that was nothing like a good workout to clear my head and exhaust my body to the point where it wouldn't matter if there was a naked Bella prancing through my thoughts.

I slid out of bed, changed into my practice suit, threw a pair of sweats over it, grabbed my iPod and headed out the door to catch the shuttle to the Water Cube.

The Water Cube was dazzling in the sunshine, but I had an idea it would be even more dazzling at night. I'd seen pictures of it being built, but seeing it in person was so much better.

I was excited, despite frustratingly lack of sleep, to finally see the arena where I'd put in my bid to be remembered as one of the greatest Olympic swimmers of all time.

Inside, the facilities were even more impressive. There were several large pools, aside from the main competition pool. I picked the smallest of the four and began stretching on the deck by the water. My muscles protested fiercely as they'd been cramped for so long in the plane and clenched during my two hour struggle to fall asleep. But I knew as soon as I dove into the water, the disuse and the irritation skimming along my nerves would simply fade away and it would be just me and the water yet again.

I finished up my stretches and was leaning over to grab my goggles from the deck floor when I heard the lewd whistle.

I straightened up and suppressed a groan. With everything that had happened today, I was bound to run into him. It had been one of _those _days, after all.

"Well look who we have here, ladies," Jacob Black sneered, his loud voice echoing through the huge concrete room.

"Hello Jacob," I said politely, trying to keep my voice and my temper calm.

The Spanish swimmer simply grinned evilly at me and I regretted coming here. I was in no mood to have a confrontation with this man who considered me his biggest rival.

"Manage to lose your crowd of female admirers?"

I felt the frisson of temper along my spine and I tried desperately to reign it in.

I would _not _let him get the best of me.

"My 'crowd' of female admirers, as you call them, don't exist," I said shortly, hoping that disagreeing with him firmly but not rudely would dissuade him from egging me on.

"Sure seems like they do. . ." Jacob lecherously replied, "if I were you, I'd nail a few pieces of tail while I was at it. Cause you won't be able to after I wipe the floor with you this week."

_Of course, _I thought, _this was Jacob Black. He'd never stop egging me on._

"It seems incredibly to me, Jacob, that the centuries-long reputation of fine, upstanding Spanish gentleman seems to have entirely passed you by." I knew that sounded priggish, even for me, but I couldn't seem to help myself. I hated the way he referred to women, I hated his attitude and I even hated the way he swam. Not because, like everyone thought, he was almost as fast as I was, but because he only did it for the cache that surrounded a celebrity sports star. He didn't swim because he couldn't do anything else, like me. It wasn't in his blood and in his heart and to me, that seemed wrong.

All that, plus the way he got under my skin no matter what I did, all contrived to make me sound even more ridiculously formal than I typically did.

"God," he nearly moaned in annoyance, "you are way too serious for your own good. I bet some of those women who throw themselves at you wouldn't mind if you loosened up a little."

"I'm plenty loose," I said crossly, definitely feeling my temper was fraying, "and now I'd really appreciate it if you'd leave me alone and let me swim."

"How about a friendly match?" Jacob's sneering grin let me know that the match would be anything but friendly, though I'd never thought that he could actually personify in any way the word "friend."

I shook my head firmly. "No. I'd prefer to practice on my own." I barely forced myself to leave off the Esme-ingrained "thank you." I refused to thank Jacob Black for _anything_.

"Come on," Jacob wheedled, ambling over toward me and suddenly standing way too close.

"No," I repeated. "Absolutely not."

"What? You afraid to lose to me? You'd better get used to it, golden boy."

I hated that epithet. I didn't consider myself "golden" in any way whatsoever, and when the media outlets had coined that nickname, I'd nearly died of embarrassment and had again wished that I hadn't inherited Carlisle's handsome face.

Jacob must have seen my grimace because he added, "you should own it, Eddie. Use it."

I shook my head, feeling my self-control slowly slipping away. I hadn't been alone with Jacob, without the protection of a throng of media, other swimmers and observers, for a long time. He was obviously using the opportunity to try to provoke me into doing something stupid. I would simply have to not give in.

"Jacob, please. I'm going to swim now." I turned to head towards the blocks at the end of the pool, and I felt his hand grab my shoulder.

I whipped around, my eyes shooting daggers at him. I picked his hand off my shoulder and flung it back at him.

"Do. Not. Ever. Touch. Me. Again," I stated clearly, shaking with fury.

Jacob laughed again, the sound grating on my last nerve.

"Whatcha gonna do about it, golden boy?" he jeered, coming even closer and attempting to get in my face.

I put my hands up, hoping that I could somehow stave off the inferno of temper that was threatening to envelop me. "Just leave, please."

"What? Too pussy to fight?"

That did it.

I took the hands that were already outstretched and shoved hard, sending Jacob flying over the side into the water.

I didn't wait to see how fast he could get out of the water. I took off at a half-run, half-jog, to see if I could find any coaches at the complex early for practice.

As I neared the doorway to the hall, I heard Jacob yell menacingly, spluttering, "I'll get you for that, golden boy."

I tried to shrug it off as I rounded the corner. What could Jacob possibly do to me? He couldn't beat me. We'd already established that at the World Championships and I was even faster now.

Still, as I approached the lobby of the Water Cube, I couldn't help but embrace how good it had felt to finally lash out against the jerk that had bothered me for so long. Of course, I was worried that I hadn't been able to control myself like all the other times he'd baited me, but I chalked it up to stress and a lack of sleep. I was just fine. Nothing was going to destroy my focus this week.

Not Jacob Black.

And not Bella either.

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**please review guys! we love hearing what you think!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Characters courtesy of Stephenie Meyer, plot courtesy of US!! (bethaboo & tamelaine)**

**This chapter is all tamelaine's wonderful doing. . . enjoy guys!**

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BPOV

I rolled over and groaned at the loud ringing in my ear. I had been having such pleasant dreams—pleasant because they featured one pair of incredibly mesmerizing green eyes and sexy auburn hair—and just like that, they were shattered by the irritating sound of a telephone.

Wiping the hair out of my eyes, I glanced at the alarm clock on the bedside table. 10 AM. _Alice_. She was the only person who could travel across the ocean, lose a whole day and still be alert enough drive everyone within her vicinity crazy with her hyperactive tendencies.

After debating on taking the phone off the hook for a chance at reclaiming the vision that was Edward Cullen, I sighed in defeat. One thing I'd learned over the years was that Alice never gave up.

"Hello?" I croaked, overly exaggerating the crankiness in my voice. There was no sense in making this easy on Alice.

"Bella! You have to get up _now_. We're meeting Rose and Emmett for lunch over at the Olympic Village," she squealed, like this was the most exciting thing that had ever happened. I could picture her bouncing up and down as she danced around the room looking for an outfit. How such a calm man as Jasper had ended up with such a little energy ball, I'd never know.

"And a good morning to you as well," I said dryly.

"C'mon Bella. You need to hurry. I told them we'd meet in an hour and it sounds like you just woke up," she said accusingly.

"Of course I just woke up, Alice. International flight—remember?"

"Nevermind. Just hurry. Besides, this could be a big break for you. You never know who you may run into over there. Think of all the interviewing possibilities!" Before I could reply, the phone clicked in my ear.

I sighed. Alice was right, as usual. I had a boss that was none to pleased that I was his only foreign Olympic correspondent, and I'd do just about anything to prove he'd been right to send me. Unbidden, the dreamy image of Edward Cullen floated back into my consciousness. _Maybe_, I thought, _I'd get the chance to prove myself to him too_.

I'd been going over the horrifying meetings with Edward in my mind since I'd landed in Beijing. Something about him brought out the disaster waiting to happen Bella I'd tried so hard to conquer my entire life. Just as I'd finally banished her to the realms of nonexistence, he'd magically appeared on that plane and she'd reappeared with a vengeance.

Not only had I taken down the stewardess and caused him to be drenched, he'd then had to endure an all too public pat down of his crotch. Of course, I wasn't done with the public humiliation. Then his toe had been in the way of my luggage cart. I shuddered again as I thought of the damage that I could have done to his Olympic dreams. To top it off, I'd thought that maybe, just maybe he'd been flirting with me? Nope—there was no chance in hell that's what he'd been doing. He was probably just making conversation to keep me from moving any of my limbs and inducing any further bodily harm.

_He's way out of your league, _I told myself one more time before dragging myself out of bed. _Playboy swimmer meets clumsy journalist and falls madly in love—it could happen right?_ I snorted. Maybe in my fantasy dream world, but never in real life.

I rifled through the suitcase I'd left sitting at the foot of my bed, and picked out some jeans and a blue, long sleeved shirt opting for the casual look for one last day before I went into full-on reporter mode. Forcing the those stunning bright green eyes out of my head, I hopped into the shower, hoping that Alice wouldn't beat down my door if I was a little late. After brushing my hair into a quick ponytail and dabbing on a touch of mascara, I was ready.

I grabbed my purse and slipped on my press badge just as the knock sounded on my door. _Perfect timing. _As I slipped outside and caught a glimpse of Alice's speculative face, a terrifying thought overwhelmed me. _She knew. Somehow, she'd found out that I had a silly crush on the biggest superstar swimmer of this decade, perhaps this century._ Her eyes were appraising, as she studied me and the way I looked.

"You know, if you really want to attract someone's attention, that's probably not the best outfit to be wearing," she began. I cut her off instantly.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," I hissed, desperately praying that she'd just drop the subject before it even got started.

"Sure, you don't," she said, grinning now and clearly taking joy in my terrible attempts to dissuade her.

I gave up. "Okay, Alice. What exactly do you know?" There really was no reasoning with my pesky best friend once she'd decided to interfere, and interfere she would, if I didn't change her mind quickly. I'd already seen the gleam of mischief in her eyes and to say it was frightening me was an understatement.

"I knew it!" she shrieked, possibly damaging my ear drums for life—bad news to a journalist. "You like Edward Cullen! As soon as I saw you look him up and down and lick your lips on that plane, I knew!" I cut her off at that, slightly offended.

"I did not lick my lips when I saw him on that plane! I was just—surprised to see him there! You know that I tend to get flustered when I'm surprised, and Edward Cullen, who is possibly the worlds' most famous athlete at the moment, sleeping peacefully less than a foot away from me, is a pretty huge surprise. You should have warned me!" As the memories returned yet again, I began to feel rather justified in the irrational anger I was feeling towards her at the moment.

"Whatever--you like him, and who wouldn't? He is stunning to look at, isn't he?" She completely dismissed my rationalization, opting for her original theory. Of course, how could I counter it when she was absolutely correct in her assumption?

Realizing that defense was not the best strategy, I settled on distraction. "Alice, you know we don't want to be late to lunch. Aren't you interested in seeing all the international fashion trends amidst the athletes at the Olympic Village?"

"Um, no. I'm assuming the athletes won't be wearing heels and designer dresses to lunch. What's the fun of looking at a bunch of overly fit people in warm up suits?" Her eyes were still distant, as if she was thinking of something else—planning something else.

Discouraged, I tried again. "I wasn't talking about dresses Alice! I was talking about sizing up the competition. You know some athletes will be wearing Adidas, as well as Reebok and Champion gear, and you might as well take some notes." Finally her eyes focused back to me as she registered what I was saying.

"Of course you know nothing will compare to my designs, right?" she asked, a bit snappishly. _Great. Now I've offended her._

"You know I didn't mean it that way Alice! I was just saying that it might be fun for you. Besides, this is our last chance to get a good look at the inside of the place. You know, they're closing it to the public once the games begin." I tugged on her hand and began pulling her towards the lobby where Jasper was waiting, hoping she'd forgotten all about our previous conversation.

"So, I had an idea for a story. I was thinking of doing a piece on Rose and her partner Tanya. Do you think that they'd agree?" I was running some ideas by Alice and Jasper as we waited just inside the entrance to the huge cafeteria inside the Olympic Village.

"Hmm...that might work, but I think I may have a better idea," Alice mused. Before I could ask her just what she meant by that, the doors opened and in walked our lunch companions.

"Bella!" The booming shout broke the relative silence of the cafeteria as a huge, muscular man almost ran towards me. I cringed in embarrassment. Leave it to Emmett to make a scene, especially since he knew I hated drawing attention to myself. I had met Emmett through Rosalie Hale, Jasper's sister, shortly after they had started dating following the Athens Games. Despite his fierce reputation as a world renowned wrestler, Emmett McCarty was really a giant teddy bear of a man. He was gentle and goofy, someone who you could always count on for fun, yet he was an extremely loyal friend. He'd taken a liking to me--treating me like the little sister he never had growing up. I enjoyed his good-natured, easy-going personality, and we'd become close, despite his nearly constant teasing. He somehow always knew what would make me blush, and used that knowledge to its fullest capacity--as he was doing now.

Before I could answer--or turn around as if I didn't know him--he threw his arms around me. I winced. "Emmett...too tight. Let go of me!" I gasped. Often, Emmett had no real idea of how strong he was compared to everyone else.

"Sorry Bells," he laughed. "Rose! Bella's here," he exclaimed, turning to the beautiful, blond volleyball player at his side.

"I know, Emmett. In fact, I think that half the cafeteria now knows that Bella is here," she responded sarcastically, yet flashed a grin in my direction. "Cmon, let's sit down," she proclaimed, and led the way to a table surrounded by six chairs.

I couldn't help but think that I was very obviously the odd man out. I had no one to hold my hand as they sat next to me at the table, no one to solicitously ask me what I wanted to eat, then run off to get it, but most of all no one to give me the kind of relationship I craved--the love I had witnessed first hand between Jasper and Alice, Emmett and Rose. Once again, an image of Edward Cullen's face surfaced in my mind. I growled under my breath, angry at my deviant mind for bringing him back to the forefront of my thoughts. Unfortunately Emmett heard my annoyance.

"Did you just growl, Bella?" he asked, a huge smirk on his face. He glanced at Alice, and something he saw in her expression made him sit up, alert now that something was going on with me. Instantly his demeanor changed. "Is something wrong? Is someone bothering you that I should know about?" He cracked his knuckles menacingly.

"No, Emmett! It's nothing like that. I just had a thought that bothered me is all," I replied desperately. I just wanted to end this conversation now, and hoped that he would get the hint.

"I see," he muttered, yet I could tell that he really didn't. He looked towards Alice, and I knew that I'd have to start damage control. Alice was bad enough, but Emmett knowing about my silly crush would be torture. Whatever happened, they couldn't consult with each other because then they'd definitely put two and two together, if they hadn't already.

"So," I said, turning towards Rose, "are you ready for your first match? I hear Brazil's pretty tough." I mentally winced at the false excitement in my voice. Who was I to ask Rosalie about beach volleyball? In reality, as much fun as watching the sport was, I didn't follow it that closely. I sounded exactly like the ignorant, jump-on-the-bandwagon follower I was. I only tuned in to the sport once every four years during the Summer Olympics. In fact, the only reason I knew the Brazilian team was going to be hard to beat was because I'd been doing some preliminary research on the possible article about Rosalie and her partner Tanya.

"Oh, we're ready," Rosalie assured me. "The Brazilians may be tough, but Tanya and I don't lose--ever." Her voice was hard, but she softened it by smiling and winking at me. She knew, of course, that I was changing the subject. I'd have to thank her later for playing along.

"That's my girl," Emmett declared proudly, throwing his powerful arm around her shoulders. I stifled the inclination to sigh in relief.

"So, let's go get some lunch, I'm starving," Jasper decided, pushing his chair back and beckoning us all to follow him to the various food stations set up on the far wall. I walked behind the others, detailing the different items for consumption--sandwiches, salads, pizza, pasta, hamburgers, traditional Chinese food, even sushi. I picked up a sandwich and some salad and made my way back to the table to wait for everyone.

After we were all seated, we ate in silence for a moment. Emmett, never able to endure the quiet for long got started on his favorite subject--teasing mẹ

"So, Bella. How's your love life?" Emmett asked with a mischievious grin on his face. "I met someone that you might want to consider a date with!" The last disastrous blind date had been all his fault, so bad that Í'd made him swear off setting me up for good. I remembered back to that horrid, October night. I still hadn't figured out where Emmett had met this man or why he'd thought we would be good together.  
_  
Since it was Halloween night, he'd had the grand idea to set me up on a costume party blind date. I'd begged Emmett and Rose to come along as well so I'd know at least one person there, but they told me they had better plans, so I was stuck. Eric had showed up at my doorstep at precisely nine that night, exactly the time I'd been expecting him. Unfortunately, that was about all the expectations he'd lived up to. As I opened the door to my apartment, I'd barely concealed the expression of horror I was sure I had on my face. He was dressed in a full Star Wars stormtrooper costume. I couldn't even see his face. "Eric?" I questioned hesitantly. Leave it to me to go off with a madman rather than my true blind date._

_"It's me, my fair Princess Leia," he dramatically answered, flourishing a tiny gold bikini from behind his back. I stepped back in horror._

_"What is that?" I demanded._

_"Why, its your costume, my beauty." He walked by me into my apartment and sat on the couch. "Go get into character, and be sure to wear this," he instructed and tossed a wig complete with the requisite hair buns at me._

_"I'm going to kill Emmett," I growled under my breath as I slammed the door to my bedroom, locking it for good measure. Shimmying into the miniscule bikini, I plotted revenge. I couldn't believe I was actually going along with this, but Emmett had threatened that if I didn't give the guy at least a chance this time, the blind dates would only continue. I'd been the victim of enough disastrous setups by him to want it to all end._

_I finally was ready, and slowly peeked at myself in the mirror. I wasn't one to wear revealing clothes and hardly recognized myself. Maliciously I wondered what Eric would have done if he'd showed up at the door and found some 200 pound woman as his blind date--bet he'd have reconsidered his bikini choice then. Tucking some cash in my top, I left my room. Stormtrooper Eric was currently reading a magazine--his helmet off. I'd get to learn what he looked like at least._

_He glanced up at me as I walked in and grinned. "You are the Princess Leia of my dreams," he gushed. He had a bad acne problem and wore huge, wire rimmed glasses that made his face look even smaller. They reminded me of the kind that Napoleon Dynamite's older brother wore and I briefly wondered how he'd managed to get that helmet on over those ugly glasses._

_Seeing my curious stare, he hastened to explain. "Don't worry, I can still see when I'm a stormtrooper. I had my optometrist install a special lens piece in the eyes." He'd taken off his glasses as he spoke and started shoving the helmet over his head. His voice became more and more muffled, and I wondered if he was going to suffocate before it finally popped into place. Gone was Eric the nerdy engineer, and in his place was my very own stormtrooper for the night . . . which of course thrilled me to no end._

_"Come beloved, your starship awaits," he proclaimed, gesturing out the door. Sitting parked next to the sidewalk was what should have been an ordinary Honda Civic, yet once again it was unexpected. Flashing lights were somehow lined up along the sides and a R2D2 was peeking it's head out of the sun roof. He hadn't been kidding when he'd directed me to the starship. Could this date get any worse? It did, of course._

_As we pulled up to the party, I could hear loud music coming from inside. I went to open the car door, eager to escape the stilted conversation, when I felt a hand on my arm. "Not so fast, my comely queen, I think we need an addition to your outfit," Eric leered at me._

_I stopped, appalled. Just what kind of addition was he talking about? Wasn't this enough? He pulled something out of his pocket and raced around the car to me. Standing up, I noticed what he was holding and took a step back only to be brought up short by the car. No way. Absolutely no freakin way, I thought as he followed me step for step, the abominable object held out towards me. I began cursing myself for not bringing my cell phone as he reached towards my neck with the thick leather collar attached to a chain._

_"No! I'm not wearing that. I wore the gold bikini and the hair, but I draw the line at a collar and leash," I squeaked, finally finding my voice._

_"But . . . but, I don't want to lose you in the crowd!" he spluttered back at me. That was the exact opposite of what I hoped for. I figured that if I could see his face at that moment, it would be pulled up in a pout._

_"I'll stick by you," I muttered, crossing my fingers behind my back. Perhaps I could meet someone normal once we were inside._

_As we stepped in the door, I threw that wish right out the window. This wasn't a normal Halloween party; it was a freaky Star Wars Halloween party. Every single person in the room was dressed as some sort of character--there was even a man (or woman) in a full on Chewy costume. I groaned in despair and headed to the nearest drink table in a rush._

_I took the nearest cup without asking what it was and took a big gulp. I needed something to help me escape this nightmare. My eyes widened at the taste and I choked, spewing liquid over everything and everyone in the vicinity. "What is this?" I gasped out, my eyes still watering._

_"Oh, that's my own concoction. I'm trying to recreate a drink they would have had on Planet Hoth. You know, they didn't have cows to milk? That's pig milk mixed with my own secret ingredients. Don't you like it?" a man near me asked accusingly._

_"Uh . . .sure," I lied, not wanting to offend the rabid fans. I didn't even want to consider how one milked a pig, or just what else had been in my mouth._

_"Bella. . .I mean Leia, my beautiful princess," a voice called in the background. It was time to make my escape._

_"Excuse me," I asked a nearby CP3O desperately. "can you direct me to a phone?" The man made a big show of robot like arm motions, before finally pointing towards a small room._

_I made a frantic dash for the room, hoping that my flashy gold bikini wasn't a beacon for my pursuer in this overcrowded room. Spotting the phone, I increased my momentum, and upon reaching it yanked it up and began dialing in one fluid motion. Whoever had said I was clumsy clearly had never seen me in this dire of a situation before._

_"Hello?" the voice answered on the other end._

_"Emmett! Come. Get. Me. Now!" I almost shouted at him. I'd memorized both the way we'd come and the address just in case this happened. I just hadn't foreseen the disastrous details, or I wouldn't have even bothered trying when I'd opened the door to a stormtrooper this evening. I quickly rattled off the directions, then considered my best options for sneaking out of there._

_Spying the window, I opted to climb out figuring I had only a moment before my date walked in. I'd never been more grateful to be on the first floor in my life. Ignoring my chronic clumsiness, I bravely opened the window and stuck one leg out. Somehow I managed to get my other foot stuck in the curtain cord. Tugging to free myself, I heard a small rip and my foot jerked free. I found myself tumbling head first into the bushes lining the house. "Damn it," I cursed, rolling out of the tangled branches onto the lawn._

_Suddenly I heard loud laughter. Not three feet away from me, Emmett was standing bent over at the waist laughing his head off. I picked myself up and marched over to him, angrier with him than I'd ever been._

_"This is all your fault," I hissed. "To make it up to me you will never, ever set me up on a blind date again. What were you thinking?" I punctuated each word with a jab to his arm. Finally I became aware of our surroundings and realized I was shouting at him and we were drawing a crowd. "Nevermind, just get me out of here," I said, grabbing his arm and racing to his very normal car.  
_  
"Bella? I was just teasing! No need to look so horrified," Emmett's voice tore me out of my nightmarish thoughts.

"You'd better be," I warned. "You still owe me for that last one!"

"So, how was everyone's flight?" Rose asked curiously. Once again I noticed her wink. She was attempting to help me out once again, but little did she know that this was the one subject I'd been trying to avoid.

"Ours was great, but why don't you ask Bella about hers," Alice said slyly. _Traitor._ I glared at her, before turning to Emmett and Rose who were staring at me curiously.

"Alice got me kicked out of first class when she knocked me into a stewardness," I blurted after an awkward silencẹ _Not what I'd meant to saỵ _Urgently trying to make up some ground, I contined. "Well, she'd spent too much time fake baking anyways, perhaps the water cooled her off. Anyways, I went back to my seat and had a chance to write a little bit," I finished lamelỵ

"Wow! I've never heard of someone being kicked out of first class for misbehavior before." Emmett's voice had an awed tone to it.

"It's probably because people in coach aren't allowed in first class! I snuck up there on one of Alice's many whims," I scowled at her again.

"You guys are missing the point," Alice interuppted, shooting me a triumphant smile. "None of you have asked her just who it was the stewardess spilled the drink on!"

"So, who did that drink land on?" Rose asked curiously.

"Only the one person I could have possibly done an interview with that would make my boss happy," I muttered, giving up on the secrecy. "He's probably the most famous swimmer in history." I heard a gasp.

"You spilled a drink on Edward Cullen?" Emmett guffawed.  
_  
"_I didn't spill the drink--the stewardess did," I defended. "And yes, he got all wet and quite possibly will never grant me an interview. So yes, my flight was exciting in a disastrous kind of way. Are you all satisfied?" I left out the part where I'd run over his toe with my luggage.

They looked at me wide-eyed, but wisely didn't say another word. We finished the rest of our lunch with polite conversation about matches and team statistics, finally standing up to leave. I had a press conference to prepare for the next day, and was eager to get started on the various questions I could ask the unsuspecting athletes that showed up to it.

Just as I turned around to bid my friends goodbye, the image that had been haunting my dreams materialized. I blinked, willing it to go away. I opened my eyes. _Nope, still there. _That would mean he's not an image at all, but...real! I tried to turn away, to avert my eyes so I wouldn't get caught staring, but it didn't work. I couldn't tear my eyes from the massive amount of food he had on his traỵ Following behind him were two workers carrying trays full of food I instinctively knew was also for him. Wide-eyed, I watched in awe as he set the tray at an empty table and motioned for the workers to do the samẹ. Íd heard he ate massive quantities of food, but nothing could compare to seeing it in person. Swimming really kept someone in shape. I made a mental note to begin my own swimming routine once I was back home. _Oh wait, I was afraid of the water_, I remembered before the idea could take shape.

Suddenly I realized I was still staring at him, but not at his food anymore. I was staring directly at his very fit stomach, which unfortunately was currently covered by a t-shirt. I quickly raised my eyes, hoping that he hadn't noticed me ogling him yet again and was sadly disappointed. My brown eyes met his green ones, which were looking back at me with a mixture of amusement and something else that I couldn't identify. We stood there gazing at each other for an infinitesimal second that seemed more like an eternity to me. I couldn't break away and I hoped that perhaps, perhaps he felt the same way. Drawn towards him, I took one step . . .then another. All the while he stood there, simply watching me, never breaking eye contact.

"Bella," the voice intruded, forcing me back into reality. _What was I doing? _Of course he didn't want me to come near him. He probably was just keeping an eye on me, making sure I didn't attack him again. I turned in the direction of Alice's voice, still a bit shaken at the powerful feelings I'd experienced with just one glance into his eyes. As I followed Alice out the door, I couldn't help a glance back.

He was sitting at the table with his piles of food, alone amidst a sea of people. Somehow I got the feeling that this was normal for him. For just a second, I was tempted to join him, to ease some of that loneliness. I laughed aloud at my thoughts, causing Alice to shoot a suspicious glance backwards. Of course Edward Cullen wasn't alone. How could he be? Every woman in the world desired him, was attracted to him. Why on earth would I be the one he wanted? I shrugged my shoulders at Alice's questioning look and headed out the door without another glance.

AN: I am not making fun of software engineers nor those who like Star Wars. My own husband is a software engineer, and he loves Star Wars, and he has the potential to be a really big nerd-luckily he's not. I had a blast writing that scene though, imagining what my life would be like if my husband warped into full nerd mode.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author Note: Thank you to everyone who's been so supportive of Going for the Gold.  
**

**Just a reminder, this is CO-WRITTEN with tamelaine, so we are not plagarizing anyone's story.**

**This, chapter, however, was written by moi.**

**Songs are up on my profile.**

* * *

EPOV

I ran a hand through my hair, mussing it even more, and took in Esme's frown as she reached over and tried to fix it.

"They aren't going to be taping me," I whined, embarrassed at my own reluctance to do this.

"No, but I don't want anyone thinking you're a slob, Edward," Esme said sweetly, her love for me reflected in her eyes. "I just wish you would get it cut more regularly."

There was no way that was going to happen. My hair was one of the few things I got to decide on for myself and hell would freeze over before I relinquished that one little tiny corner I'd salvaged from the life that was controlled by everyone else.

Even Esme, as much as I loved her, still saw me as too young, too incapable of taking care of myself. Maybe it was because instead of doing things normally, the way I'd lived my life since the age of twelve had been upside-down. In high school I'd had tutors. In college, my classes were all independent studies and I lived in my own apartment, and Esme took care of everything—cleaning, cooking, shopping.

Nothing about the arrangement had changed since graduation except that the "classes" were over. I lived alone, had few friends, and I spent my days sleeping, eating and swimming. After Beijing was over, I was going to do something to change the monotony of my days. I loved swimming but I felt like it, along with Carlisle and Esme, were slowly strangling me to death.

I knew they suspected I'd be changing some things around after the Beijing Olympics ended, but I didn't think that either my dad or my mom knew quite how much was about to change. I wanted to be independent, and to stop answering to all the people that were convinced they were needed to run my life.

Women were part of that equation and I forced myself not to think of Bella. Bella was just a stand-in for anyone in particular, I told myself, it didn't matter if the woman I started dating wasn't Bella. Except that in the last two days suddenly it was impossible of me to see any woman but her, and we'd had exactly one conversation. She'd never left my thoughts since, and when I'd seen her in the cafeteria yesterday, for about ten seconds I'd thought I was hallucinating. It wasn't until I saw her with Alice and her husband that I believed it was really her in the flesh and not just a miraculous figment of my imagination come to life.

I'd so desperately wanted to go talk to her, but I knew that if I did, news of that would reach Carlisle within an hour, and after my confrontation with Jacob, the last thing I wanted was a lecture from my father. So instead, I'd stupidly willed her to come to me, even though I knew it wouldn't work. She would never understand. Unfortunately I'd been right, and though for about half a minute it looked like it might work, she'd been called away by Alice, and the moment was broken.

"Now, Edward, it's just some journalists," Carlisle began and I interrupted him.

"It isn't _just some _journalists, Dad, it's four hours of them. I thought we agreed that it was presumptuous to give all these interviews when all anyone is going to want to talk about is the record." I couldn't help the angry metallic tone edging my voice. Why couldn't they just _leave me alone_? All I wanted to do was swim and get the hell out of here with my sanity intact.

"Edward," Carlisle said, his voice remarkably calm, "you're a famous celebrity. You're in huge demand. Ever since the World Championships we knew this was coming. Then the Trials elevated your image even more. There was no way to avoid this."

I told myself that agreeing with what Carlisle said was reasonable and fair. The only problem was that I hated press and I definitely didn't feel reasonable and fair at this moment. Theoretically, I could leave and while everyone would be upset, nobody would or could stop me. So what was preventing me? That tiny part of my brain that had done what I'd been told to do for the last fifteen years. Hard to override that kind of training, and as Carlisle liked to boast in interviews, I responded to training like nobody he'd ever seen. I'd always been proud of that fact before—now it just made me slightly sick to my stomach. In reality, my father had been boasting to the world about how easily he could control me.

"You'll be fine," Esme chimed in, ever the peacemaker.

I only wished that I could believe her.

"Just tell me I have the evening free," I begged.

Carlisle looked surprised. "Of course you do. You're going to sleep early."

_That's right. No time for anything extraordinary in an extraordinary country during extraordinary times. Only time for routine and training. _I barely prevented myself from rolling my eyes.

He'd clearly forgotten about the Opening Ceremony tonight, and feeling more than a little caged, I decided not to bring it up again, fearful of what I might say if I expressed how I really felt.

"Of course," I agreed, smoothly and readily. I ordered myself to do what he said, but the Edward inside that was dying to come out was becoming increasingly difficult to contain. Who knew what he would do with a whole evening free? Even I was afraid to consider the possibilities.

Luckily or maybe unluckily, I wasn't given the opportunity. Rob, my business manager walked into the conference room and both Carlisle and Esme shot to their feet. I rose too, just a little slower, clearly not as eager for his presence.

"Esme, Carlisle, Edward," Rob said smoothly in his British accent, shaking hands all around. "I'm glad to report we have a full schedule today." I couldn't stop myself from rolling my eyes. I was not glad at all that there was a fucking full schedule.

"Lovely," Esme replied, charmed as usual by Rob's ingratiating Britishness.

"We'll start in five minutes, Edward, if you're ready."

Who was he kidding? I was never going to be ready for the next eight hours. I hated talking about myself more than almost anything else, and having endured this kind of thing before, I knew exactly what was coming.

I'd already decided to retreat and answer the questions as shortly and succinctly as possible. Nobody was going to go any deeper than I wanted them to.

"I'm ready," I said, not bothering to hide my displeasure with the situation.

Carlisle sighed and right before he and Esme left the room with Rob, he turned back to me and said, "Could you try to be at least a little nice to them?"

Oh, I was going to be nice alright. My manners were going to do Esme proud, but being cordial and polite had nothing to do with revealing anything deeper about me, my past or my future. I nodded, and Carlisle smiled, obviously relieved by my answer.

The first reporter was showed into the room by Rob. Not surprisingly she was female and very young—probably late twenties. Beautiful too, though definitely not my type. She was way too blond and way too much everywhere else to catch my more discerning attention. In any case, my taste ran more towards brunettes these days.

As soon as I'd hit puberty, the media outlets had started sending increasingly younger and more beautiful reporters to try to pump me for information. At first I'd been insulted. Did they really think that I thought only with my hormones? Of course, it must have worked in the past with other subjects, thus their assault on me. Still, I'd been annoyed then, and in the interim, my annoyance had only increased. For each interview, the outlets managed to dig out more and more women, probably hoping that someday one of them would really catch my eye and then I'd let it all slip.

They didn't know that there was one out there who probably could find everything out about me simply by putting herself in front of me.

"You must be Edward Cullen," the woman simpered with what she probably thought was a seductive charm, "I'm Elizabeth Jones from USA Today."

_She could have been Jenna Jameson and I wouldn't have cared, but okay._

She held her hand and I shook it briefly as I could, and let go before she could develop any ideas about further physical contact between us.

"Would you like to sit down?" I asked coldly. Elizabeth looked at me with surprise, obviously expecting a lot warmer reception. She definitely would be found attractive by a significant percentage of the male population, so no doubt she was used to deference from whoever she interviewed.

This was probably going to be the worst interview she'd ever conducted. I smiled inwardly with relish at the thought of cockblocking her.

"Of course," she murmured, and I ticked that particular trick off the list. Often, the women would drop their voices to a mere whisper, likely trying to emphasize our privacy, or get me to move closer to them—or probably both.

I stayed silent. It was her interview, she was going to have to make an effort to ask me questions. If she thought I was going to help her delve deeper into my psyche then she was _so _wrong.

Finally, after arranging her recording device and getting her pad out, all in all an uncomfortably quiet two minutes or so, she'd cleared her throat and asked the first question.

"Edward, tell me what you think about Beijing so far?" Elizabeth tossed her hair as punctuation to her question and I nearly grimaced. Did she think I was going to fall at her feet at the vision of some blond hair? I was a lot stronger than that. Of course if the hair had been Bella's, I probably would have been mush at her feet.

I knew Elizabeth or her editors could care less what I thought about Beijing; the question was simply a lead-in to make me feel more comfortable. What she didn't know, but probably suspected, was that my tension wasn't going to ease.

"It's a beautiful city."

_Take that and see if you can derive some deep psychological meaning out of it._

The rest of the interview went the way I knew it would go. This girl was too young and too inexperienced to really know what she was doing when the subject of the interview answered in flat, short sentences and monosyllables. She'd been picked in the hopes that her looks could deliver some dirt. Clearly, her brain had never been part of the equation.

I watched as she traipsed out of the room, head down, clearly crestfallen that she'd been unable to make any progress, and I tried to summon a molecule of sympathy for her, but failed. In the world of the press and their victims, the celebrities, it was win or lose. And right now the score was Edward 1, Reporters 0.

Two hours slipped by, and from reporter to reporter nothing much changed except that I became more lost in my thoughts of Bella, and the reporters and Rob grew more and more annoyed with my succinctness.

Finally, we reached the last scheduled reporter. My head was tipped back in my chair, waiting for her to come in, but when I heard the door open and close and looked up, it was Rob instead. I closed my eyes. I knew what kind of lecture I was about to get.

"You know, this is an incredibly childish stunt you're pulling. I want you to get your head out of your ass and get it together," he nearly growled at me. "The last reporter is a good friend of mine, from New York, so be nice."

"A friend?" I opened my eyes and raised one eyebrow at him. Maybe if Rob was involved with this one, there would be less schmoozing. I could deal with that.

Rob nodded abruptly, his mouth clamped together in a tight line. He was obviously furious.

"Fine," I grumbled, knowing that if I pushed him any harder, he'd tell Carlisle and Esme everything. So far they were mostly in the dark at how taciturn I was in interviews, as they'd chosen not to accompany me for the last several years. Every time Carlisle complained about getting poor press coverage, I felt a tiny twinge of guilt because I knew the problem stemmed from my decision not to share my privacy.

Rob shot me a warning look as he exited the room, and I tried to do my best "proper Edward" impression, but the charade dropped as soon as the door closed behind him. There was no way I was going to change my tactics now that they'd proved to be so successful.

Two minutes later, hell on heels walked in.

Gorgeous wasn't even a word I would have used to describe her. She was insanely beautiful. Insane because that's probably what she did to men—set them up with straitjackets and padded cells for life. She flipped one long wavy strand of hair over her shoulder, and _god help me_, it was a beautiful dark shiny brown that reminded me way too much of Bella. Her face could have given Angelina Jolie a run for the money though, and resembled nothing of Bella's sweet innocence. _Good_, I thought, _there's one thing I don't like about her. And that she's obviously a piranha of the press variety._

This wasn't some green girl reporter—this woman was a tigress who knew how to get exactly what she wanted, no matter who got cut in the process.

She must have seen the apprehension written all over my face because her lips curled into a pre-massacre sneer, and amazingly even this didn't make her ugly.

"Hi, I'm Jessica Rabbitt, from US Weekly," she said as she melted into the couch more gracefully than any woman wearing four inch heels should be able to do.

I knew several things very quickly. First, I was in deep, _deep _shit. Second, what was a reporter from US Weekly doing interviewing me? The only answer to that question was that I was now not only up to my ankles, but my knees as well.

"Rabbitt?" I nearly squeaked. Cursing inwardly, I tried to paste on an expression of bored sophistication. Unfortunately, I think she saw right through it.

"Rabbitt," she confirmed, sharing a dazzling smile with me. "My parents had a bit of a sense of humor."

"Uh," I cleared my throat, wondering why my collar suddenly felt so tight and the room had become so unbearably warm, "hilarious."

"So, Edward, I have to tell you, I've been looking forward to this interview ever since Rob promised it to me."

"Oh you know Rob?" I asked innocently, hoping I could extract the fact that they were indeed together. Of course, a woman like this didn't know what scruples were, so it might not matter after all.

_Think of Bella, _I told myself, _think of her sweet brown eyes, that incredible smile, and her witty intelligence. This woman came out of a cesspool, she's trashy and ugly and. . .nearly on top of me._

My breath nearly stopped in my throat, as she practically crawled over the leather of the couch, her slim black skirt riding up her legs. _Ungh. This was not good on so many levels._

I backed up on my couch as far as I could without being unbearably rude. "So Jessica," I started, not believing I was about to start encouraging a reporter to ask questions, "what are your readers curious about?" Anything to get her off this particular track and onto a less X-rated one.

"That's an excellent question," Jessica purred, taking the opportunity to slip off her shoes and curl her legs under her—thereby making the skirt move up farther, exposing more of her undeniably shapely legs.

"Is it?" I replied, furiously trying to look anywhere but the generous expanse of thigh she'd just exposed.

"I wouldn't say that it's my _readers _who are so interested, Mr. Cullen. I'm positively _fascinated _by you."

I opened my mouth and closed it, not sure of anything I could really say in response to that.

Clearly though, she'd decided that my words were unnecessary, which was extraordinary odd for someone who was technically supposed to be interviewing me, as she continued, "For example, I'd like to know about your love life."

"My love life?" This was not a typical question, though I'd been asked it before. Albeit with a lot less charm and persuasion. And shapely thigh.

"I want to know _all _about you, Edward, and for someone of your _intensity, _I'm sure you must have some woman who can handle you."

I didn't miss a single innuendo she threw into that sentence, though it was mind-boggling how many she'd managed to include.

"Um, there isn't anybody right now." I decided that the simpler answer in this scenario was always better. I wasn't going to be able to get away with my typical monosyllabic answers because god knew I wanted to keep her talking and not crawling.

"Nobody?" Jessica said, shifting a little on the couch. I avoided looking at her legs, just because I knew the shirt had likely shifted as well.

"Nobody," I said firmly. I knew I had to take back control of this interview or there'd be one hell of an article published in US Weekly of all places.

Jessica's plump lips formed the beginning of a pout, but I frowned so sternly at her that she asked the next question before the pouting could continue.

"I've heard some rumors about a tattoo you got for Beijing, especially."

_Great_. _Fucking fantastic._

"Yes." I knew I looked positively murderous but instead of being scared the way she should have been, unsurprisingly she was still smiling.

"I'd love to hear about it." _I'm sure you would._

"It's a promise to myself to fulfill my goals and a future memento of Beijing."

"A description?"

_This woman played some serious hardball. She didn't know the meaning of the phrase, "give up."_

"The Olympic rings," I said shortly. "On my left hip."

"How about a live demonstration?" she cooed, and I felt a sudden and murderous rage rush through me. And in that moment, her thighs were no longer shapely and her dark hair no longer reminded me of Bella's. It suddenly looked fake and overly styled.

"Absolutely not," I nearly snarled back.

"Fine," she pouted, laughing a bit. "How about another question then. I know that even with the new Nike suits you've been wearing there is still a lot of uncovered . . .skin. What depilatory method do you use to stop the drag?"

My eyebrows shot together and I very nearly jumped off the couch, flung the door open and ordered her immediate exit. The only thing that stopped me was the thought that this woman would _win_. She was dying to see me lose control and be downright rude. No doubt she'd exploit that as much as she could in her godforsaken magazine.

"Waxing," I answered, the tone of my voice daring her to continue this line of questioning at her own peril.

"Oh!" she exclaimed with saccharine innocence, "doesn't that hurt rather badly?"

"No," I lied through my teeth. "Not at all."

"You must have an excellent technician," she replied, and I wanted to throttle her. Did the woman know how to utter a single word that wasn't dripping with sexual innuendo?

"That is absolutely none of your business." I hated saying that during interviews—it felt like such a cop out. I liked outwitting reporters more than simply shutting them down, but this one needed the latter before I dismantled her.

Jessica tried to pull the pout out again, but I was wise to her moves now. This interview was now officially over. Not that it had ever been much of one. I cringed when I thought that gracing the very-classy pages of US Weekly would be a breakdown of my love life, my tattoos, and that I had to wax. _Great_.

I got up, and she shot to her feet too, faster than I thought someone wearing half a skirt could really manage. I was almost impressed by her maneuverability, but I had a feeling I'd be more impressed with Bella's. Not only did my body like her—my mind did too. And my mind wanted to chuck this trampy bitch out a window.

"This interview is over," I said, with an unmistakable note of finality in my voice.

She couldn't even manage to work up to the pout, before I was across the room, flinging the door open. I handled it so roughly it crashed straight into the wall, and Rob appeared almost instantly, no doubt worried about the loud noise.

"What's going on?" he inquired, looking from my angered face to Jessica.

"Nothing," she answered, smoothly, "Edward was just being so good to let me know that my interview time was up." Jessica slipped back into her shoes, picked up her bag and glided out the way she'd came. When she approached the door, I took a noticeable step back. Who knew what kind of parting gift she'd try to bestow on me.

The worry lines on Rob's forehead smoothed out, and he turned to Jessica.

"I hope it went well," he asked expectantly.

"Wonderfully," she agreed, stopping right by him, and standing closer than I ever would have felt comfortable with. But Rob was clearly used to it, because he simply basked in her presence.

I retreated to the couch, not wanting to see any more of their interaction. The woman made me literally sick to my stomach. I closed my eyes and focused on my mental image of Bella.

Finally, she must have left as Rob re-entered the room and cleared his throat in front of me.

I cracked open one eye. "What?" I asked belligerently. There was no need to be nice to him after that ridiculous stunt. He'd obviously known exactly what it was going to be like, and he'd thrown me to the wolves anyway. So much for bros before hoes.

"I hate to ask this, but I received a last minute request for an interview with you . . ." he trailed off, voice apologetic, and almost timid.

"No," I snapped back, "I want dinner and my bed, in that order."

"Really, I wish there was an option to say no, but this is personal request of Alice Hale. From Nike."

I groaned but halfway through a thought struck me. Alice knew Bella. _No, _I told myself, _you're just setting yourself up for disappointment. There is no way you could possibly be that lucky. You know you're going to have to seek her out—she's not going to come to you._

I closed my eyes again and nodded briefly.

"Great, excellent." Rob sounded extraordinarily relieved and I couldn't say I blamed him. You didn't want to piss off Alice Hale and Nike.

I heard him exit the room again, and even when the door opened, I stubbornly refused to open my eyes. Like a spoiled brat, I didn't want to look and know for sure that the reporter standing in front of me wasn't Bella. Until that decisive moment, I could still go on pretending.

"Edward?" a voice asked hesitantly. Too hesitantly. "Edward?" it asked again, and this time I knew the sweet timbre of that voice. I knew it almost as well as I knew my own because I'd spent hours reliving our one single conversation like a crazy person.

I opened my eyes slowly, taking in her slender form. She looked positively terrified and instantly I felt sorry for her. Shooting to my feet, I couldn't prevent my face from morphing into the biggest smile in my arsenal—the smile I usually reserved for gold medal wins.

"Bella," I exclaimed, utterly unable to control the delight in my voice.

She gaped at me and only then did I remember that I wasn't supposed to know her name. We'd never been officially introduced. Now she'd really think I was an obsessive stalker.

"Edward. . ." she stuttered out, a look of fear crossing her beautiful face. I felt an insane desire to put her at ease as fast as possible.

"It's so good to see you again," I chattered away, indicating the seat next to me on the couch, which no reporter but Jessica had come close to yet today. Even Jessica had had to vamp it up to even get near the empty seat next to me. Bella, however, was offered it like she didn't deserve to be anywhere else. Besides, I would never make her sit on the same couch that Jessica had sat on, unless it was disinfected first.

"You too," she said hesitantly, her eyes looking up into mine. I resisted an urge to grab her hand and drag it into my lap.

She still looked flustered and I was sure it was probably because I was treating the situation like a reunion instead of an interview. Truth was, though, I'd answer any question she liked. Even ones about waxing.

"Edward," she said in a rush, turning a most becoming shade of red, "I just want you to know, I am beyond sorry for all the trouble I've caused for you so far in Beijing and I also wanted to let you know this interview was never my idea—it was all Alice."

I held my hand up, not wanting to hear from Bella's lips that she hadn't wanted to come see me today.

"It's perfectly fine," I said, trying not to let disappointment creep in, "No big deal. My toe is completely recovered."

"And your lap?" Bella giggled, before catching herself and throwing a hand over her mouth. "Oh, I'm sorry. I've no idea what's come over me. I suppose we should start the interview."

"Of course," I replied, but then a sneaky but brilliant idea crept into my head and before I could even stop myself, I was opening my big mouth again and telling her all about it.

"I have to admit, I'm starving. Why don't we conduct the interview over dinner?"

Her jaw dropped. "Dinner?"

"You do need to eat, right?" I teased, trying to make the invitation a little more lighthearted to take the look of terror out of her eyes.

She nodded slowly, as if she were unable to believe that she'd heard what she thought she had. Or that I had said it at all.

_That made two of us._

"And you don't have plans for the Opening Ceremony?" I inquired, praying that she didn't.

"Nope. And you're not going?" she asked in surprise.

"Unfortunately no. Carlisle doesn't think it's a good idea of me to stay out too late with a race in the morning. But," I added before Bella could offer any objection to dinner, "I think walking a little and finding some food would be good for me. I've been cooped up here all day."

"Okay," she replied, still clearly a bit hesitant. "Would that be part of the interview then?"

"Of course," I offered generously, hoping that I could trust her and that I wouldn't kick myself later for agreeing. Besides, I intended to grill her twice as hard as she could question me. I wanted to know as much about her as I could. I was dying to gorge myself on her presence.

I got to my feet and she followed, a little awkwardly. She was one of the clumsiest creatures I'd ever seen, and yet, it wasn't a turn-off. Instead, I found it kind of ridiculously adorable.

"Shall we go then?" I asked with as much gentlemanly flair as I could, offering my arm to her.

One edge of her mouth turned up in a smile, and if I wasn't mistaken her hand trembled a bit as I took it.

As we left the room, I knew I'd officially gone off the deep end, and if Carlisle found out about this I was so _screwed, _but already, with Bella's presence, anything I'd suffer was totally worth it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: We own none of Stephenie Meyer's characters.**

**AN: Thank you all for waiting so patiently for this chapter. I hope it lives up to expectations. Remember, I am co-writing this with the fabulous Bethaboo! She'll be writing the next fabulous chapter! Enjoy, and as always, remember to review!**

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BPOV

I walked along in a daze. Edward Cullen had just asked me to dinner with him and I was still trying to decide whether I was hallucinating or if I had just been granted one of the greatest opportunities in my life. Not only would I get to spend extra time with the most intriguing man I'd ever met, I also was granted an excuse for asking him questions and finding out more about him. Never mind that I was supposed to be interviewing him--my real intent wasn't quite that noble. Something about him drew me like a moth to a flame and made me cast out all my trepidations about playboy athletes like him. Despite my better judgment, I was going to use this dinner the best I could. I was determined to find out what made him tick, then perhaps I'd figure out a few interesting tidbits to include in the article to satisfy my boss' craving for personal information.

Some part of me was still wondering why it was me that Edward chose to take to dinner. I'd seen the dark haired bombshell of a reporter walk out earlier. She'd had _me_ shaking in my boots from the predatory glances she'd given all males in the vicinity--a succubus searching for her victims. I couldn't imagine how he'd gone through an entire interview with her, come out unscathed, then proceeded to ask an average looking woman like me--a woman had not only humiliated him but nearly broken his toes. I briefly wondered if he was a masochist, then another thought occurred to me. I froze, uncertain for a moment about what this dinner really meant. Was it a date like I so desperately wanted it to be, or was this a business dinner between two acquaintances? I'd have to let him lead, and decide from there.

"Bella? Are you coming?" Edward's voice broke into my endless flood of thoughts. I tried to smile up at him and he flashed that all too famous grin back at me.

_Okay,_ I thought, feeling my knees weaken, _that should be illegal. _"I'm coming," I answered, quickening my pace to match his stride. "I'm wearing heels, which are difficult enough to walk in, and for some reason I'm even clumsier than usual in your presence, so I'm trying to be careful so I don't end up tripping us both and somehow crippling you." I blushed when I realized I'd admitted how his presence affected me.

"Hmmm...we can't have you tripping and injuring either of your pretty ankles," Edward mused in an almost bored tone, but I could hear something else underneath. Something hotter. "Why don't you hold on to me, and I'll keep you from falling. There are a lot of cracks in these sidewalks." Without waiting for my answer, he took hold of my hand.

_Smooth. _Except, unfortunately, he had his hand wrapped around mine the way a mother would guide a small child into a street--not at all what I desired from him. _Oh well,_ I sighed. A girl would take what she could get, and I was currently holding hands with Edward Cullen--skin to skin contact. I shivered at the strange pull I felt towards him, only growing stronger each time I saw him. It was perhaps the strangest feeling I'd ever had in my life, and I didn't even _like _who he was. Everyone had heard he was a stuck up athletic jock. So far I wasn't sure if the rumors were right, but it was a little too early to tell for sure.

"So," I wondered, trying to add some conversation to our silence, "where are we going? I must admit, I don't have any idea about what restaurants are good around here."

"Well, there is this place I've heard about--Mei Fu--I thought maybe we'd go there. They serve traditional Chinese food and I've heard good things about it. The best thing about the place is that it generally serves groups, so the portions are huge." There was reverence in his tone when he talked about the food.

_Oh_, I remembered, thinking of all the food that he'd had on his trays at the village. Of course he'd take me to a place that would bring out massive amounts of food. I wondered just how long this dinner would last. "Where's it at?" I questioned, wondering how long I'd get to hold his hand before he had to let go.

"It's just a short walk from here. Why?" he questioned curiously.

"No reason, I was just wondering," I answered. He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze, and we continued walking along the sidewalk until a restaurant came into view. It was painted a brilliant red, and small Chinese lanterns lit the path to the door. Larger lanterns adorned the overhang, giving it an almost romantic feel. _Great,_ like I needed a romantic setting while in his company. He already had some sort of magnetic affect on me, I didn't need scenery to encourage my strange attraction. He let go of my hand as we approached the door, and I instantly felt loss.

The heavy, wood doors opened and a small, Chinese girl welcomed us. She started leading us towards the middle of the room, which I noticed was full of large tables and groups of people. There were piles of rice, vegetables, and other exotic dishes set onto square glass plates on the middle of each table. She started to lead us to the communal table, but Edward stopped her with a light touch of his hand on her arm. "Could we have a private table?" he asked cajolingly.

"Okay," the girl answered in accented english. She looked a little breathless and I smiled in sympathy. He was dazzling her too, of course. She led us to a square table in a secluded corner. There was another lantern hanging directly over us, giving off the feel of candlelight. Edward, who I was beginning to suspect was more of a gentleman than I'd previously thought, held my chair out for me, then seated himself.

I picked up the menu and opened it, only to freeze in shock. The entire menu was written in Chinese characters, and I hadn't a prayer of deciphering it enough to order. I glanced up at Edward, who was looking at me amused. "How am I supposed to order from this?" I whispered to him, leaning over so he could hear me over the cacophony of background noises.

"I'll show you," he replied. "First, though, I want you to come sit closer to me. It's too hard to hear you over the noise, and I'd rather not shout while you conduct the interview." He grasped my chair and pulled it so I was sitting next to him. I let out a small squeak, startled at the abrupt and unexpected movement and how easily he'd hefted me plus the chair.

Just then, the waitress arrived--another tiny Chinese girl--and asked us what we'd like to eat. I glanced hesitantly at Edward, who smirked at me, correctly reading my hesitation. "We'll have one of each entree on the menu. Well anything that doesn't have shrimp in it. I don't like shrimp. Unless--Bella, do you like shrimp?" he questioned. I could only shake my head at him in shock. "No shrimp then," he said, nodding to the waitress. "And rice--lots of rice. Possibly some noodles too--whatever's the tastiest," he added after brief consideration. I could tell that the waitress could hardly believe what she was hearing. Really, neither could I.

"Oh wait," Edward called as she turned to walk away, "you forgot our drinks." She turned around and apologized quickly. "I'll just have water--bottled water," Edward answered than looked expectantly at me.

"Um, Coke?" It came out as more of a question then an answer, but I must have requested something that was on the menu because she nodded and walked away.

"So," Edward said, turning to me, "if I'm going to grant you this interview, I'd like one favor from you."

"What?" I asked curiously. What kind of favor would he need from a nosy journalist like me? Nevermind need. What could he possibly _want _with me?

"Well, I get tired of being the one to answer all the questions, all the time, so how about we switch off? I've always wondered what it would feel like to question a member of the press. Sort of turning the tables on them," he answered.

"Um, I guess?" Once again I answered with a question inflected in my tone.

Seeing the almost panicked look on my face, Edward reassured me quickly. "No, I don't mean it like that. I'll be nice, I promise! No crazy questions designed to trick you...that is if you promise to do the same."

I sighed in relief, then realized just what he'd suggested. So, we were getting to know one another in the guise of a professional interview. I didn't know whether to be exasperated and ask him straight out if this was a date, or just ignore it and go with the flow.

"So, since I'm paying, I feel like I get the obligatory first question," Edward coaxed, just as the waitress set our drinks on the table in front of us and hastily retreated.

"Okay, shoot," I replied, biting my lip nervously. I hated talking about myself, and I wasn't looking forward to the inquisition I was about to receive, judging from Edward's determined look.

"I'll start off easy. I know your name is Bella and that's it. So, how about a last name...and is Bella short for anything?"

"Isabella, actually. Isabella Marie Swan is my full name," I answered, grateful for the simple question.

"Hmm...very pretty. Now, its your turn," he prompted.

"Well, since I already know your full name, courtesy of every sports magazine and newscast in existence, how about you tell me a little bit of why you decided to get into swimming. Obviously, it's in your blood, but is there a reason you chose the same sport as your dad?" I was in my element, and the question came easily to mind, despite the other parts of my body that rebelled at the mere sight of him.

"You really get right to the point, don't you. Haven't you read my answer in all of these magazines in existence where the reporter asked me that same question?"

"That's another question for me, and you haven't answered mine yet. And to be honest, I've read your answer, but it didn't seem entirely truthful," I declared, determined to be honest.

"Hmmm...I'll give you that then, and yeah, you're right, the answer I give isn't entirely truthful. For some reason, though, I don't think I can lie to you, though. Besides, I know I can trust you," he said, his green eyes appraised me for a long, tense moment, then he began to speak. "You know I was was two when my dad competed spectacularly in the Games, right? I was watching, and at the moment that he won his last gold medal, I knew I was going to be just like him someday. I love my father, and he's the world's greatest dad. Besides every boy wants to be like his father some day."

I knew all this. It was the basic answer he'd given to all the reporters before, yet there was slightly more detail. I nodded for him to continue, sensing he had more to disclose. "Well, of course I decided that day I was going to be a swimmer like him, but the reality didn't hit home until much later on--probably when I was about ten. You see, my father is one of the greatest men I've ever known. Not only is he a great athlete, but he's a caring, gracious man. He loves my mother, and he loves me, of course, but what had I done to deserve it? What had I done to merit his pride in me. It was watching him coach a swim practice and work with such dedication to help everyone succeed that I hatched my own plan of Olympic greatness. If I can succeed--if I can possibly match his record, then I will deserve the Cullen name and my father's pride."

"Edward," I began, touched by his honesty, "I'm sure your father is every bit as proud of you as you deserve. Who wouldn't be?" I was tempted to reach out and touch his hand. My previous opinion of him was quickly changing and I was left with the great possibility that this man was quite possibly not just great in the pool, but in every aspect of his life. And this possibility scared me to death.

"So, it's my turn again," Edward asked, shaking off his serious look and grinning at me. My heart stuttered. "Let's see, after that question, I think I deserve a lot more information, so why don't you tell me about your life--your parents, where you grew up, friendships, whatever you think would interest me.

"That's a really long question," I argued, but in the end I capitulated. I told him about growing up in Phoenix after my mom left my dad, and her remarrying and my decision to relocate myself to live with my father in Forks, Washington. I told him about being befriended my first day of school there by none other than Alice Hale. I told him my passion for all books and my desire to become a serious author someday, and when he questioned how I'd managed to become a journalist, I explained that Alice was the culprit. She'd talked me into taking one class in college, and I'd discovered how much I liked it and changed my major that very day. Finally, I broke off, embarrassed for having monopolized the conversation for so long when I spotted our server coming out with a tray of food. Gulping, I stared in awe.

Following her were no less than 5 waiters, all with white aprons and carrying platters of entree upon entree. The waitress deftly lowered her tray and set three plates of steaming food on our table then pulled over another square table next to it. Plate upon plate was loaded on the two tables, until they were so laden I thought they might collapse under the weight. I glanced up at Edward, and he was looking at the food in satisfaction. I was really starting to wonder just how much he could possibly eat. We were going to be here a long time. Inwardly, my heart rejoiced.

He looked up at me and saw me staring. I looked down, and blushed. Why was he always catching me looking at him? His voice interrupted my tangled thoughts. "Aren't you going to eat anything?" I looked up, surprised to see that his plate was still empty.

"Um, sure," I answered. Knowing he was waiting for me to select some food, I picked a few items off some particularly appetizing plates and some rice, then watched Edward go at it. He piled mounds of food on his plate and then began to eat ferociously. Despite the speed of his ingestion, I was quite impressed with his meticulous table manners. Sensing that he wasn't going to come up for air anytime soon, I carefully began to eat my food. I wasn't taking any chances with my clumsiness, and was determined to get through this meal with him unscathed and unstained.

Finally, he pushed his plate away. Startled, I realized that half the food was gone. I'd finished my food long ago and had resorted to watching him. He didn't seem to mind, and I was quite enjoying the view, especially when he'd look up at me with those gorgeous green eyes and wink every so often.

"I'll finish the rest later," he stated, smiling at my wide eyed response. "I don't want you to get bored with me. Besides, I think it's your question."

"Oh, okay, on to the next question," I stammered. I thought for a moment, then asked, "So, how do you manage all the pressure? I mean, you're considered the best swimmer in the world--the one to beat, yet you seem to handle it so well. I'd be a nervous wreck all the time," I admitted. So much for my professionalism. I'd forgotten long ago that this was an interview. It had a strange ease to it. The interaction between Edward and I was so natural--so normal that it felt entirely like we were on a date trying to get to know one another.

He didn't seem to mind the question. "Well, of course you would. To be honest, you seem too sweet to compete in event after event, hearing the slurs and criticism against you every time. Of course, you _are_ a journalist so you must have some backbone to you." He winked at me, then continued. "To be honest, I thrive on the attention, the negative comments directed towards me. It only makes me want to be better, to win by greater distances." I nodded, understanding the competitive drive that fueled him.

"My turn," he said cheerfully. "You never finished my question before. What about friends? Who are the people that are closest to you in your life?" For some reason I sensed he was alluding to a boyfriend, but I stopped those thoughts in their tracks. I didn't want to go there and get my hopes up.

"Friends? Well, you already know my best friend--Alice Hale. Obviously, we've been friends since college. She recently married Jasper Hale, who takes pictures for the same newspaper I work for. I take full credit for introducing them. His sister Rosalie Hale--I'm quite sure you've heard of her--is a beach volleyball player expected to take the gold here in Beijing. Emmett McCarty is her boyfriend. He's also an Olympian, a weightlifter who may look fearsome on the outside, but is really a giant teddy bear underneath. He's a teaser though, and has taken it upon himself to be my official tormentor. They're all really great."

Wanting to lighten the mood a little on my next question, I smiled deviously. "So Edward, I've heard about these tattoos you got after Athens? Where exactly are they at?" I teased, and to my surprise, he blushed. "Just kidding, really," I told him when he looked like he was trying to decide what to say. "I just wanted to see you flustered for once, and it worked!"

"Very funny," he grinned at me, and I could tell he wasn't upset. I was getting bolder than usual, encouraged by his relaxed body language. "It's my turn now. So, likes and dislikes? Any strange phobias?"

Great, a question that I didn't want to answer. What would he--a swimmer--say when he found out exactly what my greatest fear was? I avoided the last part of his question a bit longer, hoping he'd forget. "I really like books, as I told you before. _Pride and Prejudice_ is possibly my favorite of all time. I like spending time with good friends and now that I'm a world traveler, add traveling to new places on that list. Dislikes--I really hate it when I manage to humiliate myself in front of a crowd due to my clumsiness, I hate hypocrites, oh, and I really, really hate brussel sprouts," I quipped, knowing that it would get another amazing smile out of him.

"You forgot one thing," he reminded me when I didn't continue.

_Damn it!_ Fine, I'd answer then he'd laugh at me. Might as well get it over with. "Well, actually there is a strange fear I have. You see, when I was little, we went on a vacation to California to visit some of my mom's friends. They had a couple little girls, and we all went to the beach together one day. The adults were talking, enjoying each other's company, and not really paying attention to us. We decided to have a contest to see who could get the farthest out. I was only five at the time, and the other little girls were six and seven. None of us could swim very well, particularly against the rip currents so common on those beaches." I shuddered, remembering what was coming next.

"I got a little too brave, and ventured out in chest deep water. The tide was coming in, and the waves were getting stronger. Suddenly a huge swell knocked me off my feet, and I was immediately caught in a rip current. My mom didn't notice, and I couldn't surface, all the while being swept farther out to sea. I don't remember anything after that, but I do know that a very vigilant lifeguard pulled me out and fortunately was able to resuscitate me. I haven't been able to go in the water ever since. I don't even know how to swim anymore," I trailed off at the horrified look on Edward's face. Was it because I didn't know how to swim, or because I'd almost drowned? It woudln't be too shocking if it was the former. He did spend his entire life swimming.

"You mean to tell me that...that you almost drowned just because some adults were having too much of a good time to keep an eye on you?" His voice was livid, and I was somewhat surprised by his anger.

"Well, I think it can happen to anyone, really. I was an adventurous child, and Mom probably just lost sight of me for a moment." I'd long ago realized that my mom, though loving, was not the most responsible person, yet I didn't want to admit that to Edward.

"I'm very grateful for that lifeguard," he responded, still serious. Before I could decipher just what he meant by that, he continued. "Besides, I think it might be fate that we met. Who better to help you overcome your fear of water than someone who built his life on it? I could teach you how to swim, Bella," he said pleadingly, looking into my eyes.

"Um, I don't know about that. Really Edward, it's a nice offer and very kind of you, but you haven't seen how panicked I get. I really wouldn't want to subject you to that," I stammered.

"I promise you that I'll keep you safe," he responded, a very earnest note in his voice. "Don't you trust me?"

I considered for a moment, and decided that somehow I did trust him--despite the plethora of reasons that existed otherwise. Though still unsure about his request, I was finding it difficult to deny him anything. "Okay, you can give me a swim lesson. Just promise that you won't let go of me," I implored, already almost desperate at the thought of willingly entering a swimming pool.

"Oh, don't worry. I'll hold you very closely," Edward responded huskily. I looked up to see that his eyes had darkened minutely and I couldn't help leaning closer to him.

I tried to hold back the disappointment as he sat back in his chair and began dishing a little more food on his plate. The intimate moment between us had ended before it even started. "So, what else do you want to know?" he asked conversationally. The complete shift in mood threw me off a little, and I had trouble thinking of another question, so I copied one of his. "Likes, Dislikes, fears?" I prodded.

"Well, I obviously love to swim. I like to eat--though that much is probably pretty obvious to you at this point, huh?" He stroked his chin and I wondered what it would feel like to run my hands over his chiselled face. "I've recently discovered a great liking of dark brown eyes and hair," he answered, staring intensely at me, "and I also enjoy a good book once in awhile when I'm travelling and not in the water. Dislikes--well, I can't stand poor losers, men who treat women poorly, and . . .oh, I hate brussel sprouts too." He smiled at me.

"Imagine that. There's a food that Edward Cullen doesn't eat," I taunted. He grinned at my sarcasm. "Fears?" I prompted.

"I fear failure above all else. I'm afraid I'll let those closest to me down," he whispered, after a long pause.

"Edward, we all can't be perfect all the time, you know?" I responded after trying urgently to come up with a reassuring response. "People who truly love you will be proud of you no matter what! I know I'll be," I said vehemently, then realized that I'd just admitted that I truly cared about him. I shook off my horror, he was the one who really mattered at the moment. Did he really see himself as someone who was only worthwhile as long as he was winning? Someone needed to really talk some sense in him. I wondered if his father realized what Edward was afraid of.

Suddenly I realized something else as I caught sight of the watch on my wrist. "Edward! The opening ceremonies. Aren't you supposed to be there? I mean, I didn't make you miss anything did I?" I asked, horrified.

"No, Bella," Edward comforted me. "I wasn't planning on going. In fact, as of right now, I'm supposed to be in my room sleeping." His voice was bleak.

"But, why?" I asked. "Why would you miss one of the greatest opportunities of your life?"

"To be honest, I really wanted to go. My father told me no. He knows what it takes to achieve greatness, and of course I listened to him, like I always do," Edward said bitterly.

"Edward, I know that you look up to your father, but you're a grown man. You can make decisions for yourself," I whispered.

"Bella, you don't understand. Let me tell you what my life has been like. I never went to high school like a normal kid. I home schooled and swam . . .every single day for hours every day, I swam. Once I was done with my studies, that's all I had time for. So, I didn't go to a senior prom--or even a junior prom. Homecoming games and dances--they never happened. College was more of the same. Hours upon hours in the pool, the easiest classes I could find, and competition after competition. I had no time for a social life. My mom cleaned my apartment for me and cooked my meals. She still does, in fact. I've never had the opportunity to form friendships such as the one you share with Alice. I wasn't understood by most people around me, but I had my parents. They understood, and they stood by me and helped me. My father, also my coach, worked full time to make sure that I could achieve my dream. I went to Athens and I did well, all because of him. Of course, I'm going to listen to him when he tells me what's best. I've never done anything else." By this point, I couldn't prevent the tears from coming to my eyes at his impassioned pleas for understanding. And of course I understood him. Edward Cullen, possibly the most famous athlete in the world at the moment, was also the most alone.

I reached out and covered his hand with mine, wrapping my fingers around his and turning his hand over to cradle it within mine. He had closed his eyes, and I could see him fighting for control. "Edward," I said softly. "Look at me." He opened his eyes and looked defiantly into mine. I knew that sharing his pain was hard for him, and I was touched by his trust in me. "I want you to know that I'm here for you..whenver you need someone to talk to. I also think that while you may be one step away from reaching your life long dream, it will hold no meaning for you if you don't enjoy any of the steps along the way. I know it's too late to go to the Opening Ceremonies now, but I think that you need to do more of what you want to do. It is your life, and life is meant to be lived. I can promise you that a little enjoyment in your life won't rob you of victory as long as it's in moderation." I smiled when I realized he was considering my words.

Finally, he smiled back at me. "Thank you for that, Bella. You truly are more wonderful that I'd imagined. Besides, I'm already breaking the rules by being here with you. See, you have a good influence on me. For the first time I can remember, I'm breaking the rules and not feeling guilty for it."

I suddenly realized I was still holding tightly to his hand. Blushing, I let go. "Sorry, I didn't mean . .."

He cut me off with a shake of his head.

"Bella, please don't take your hand from mine. In fact, let me show you how you should have been holding on to me." He deliberately picked up my hand and fitted our palms together, rubbing his palm across mine a few times. Finally, he deliberately separated each of my fingers, and slid his in between, linking our hands together. He brushed a kiss to the top of one of my knuckes, before lowering our hands to the table once again.

I was speechless. No man had ever been so tender with me. All I could do was gape at him.

"So, Miss Swan. What's on your agenda for the Olympics next?" he asked after a long moment.

I waited for my heart to slow it's frantic pace, then managed to calmly answer him. "Actually, I'm going to be covering mostly events at the Water Cube. Alice managed to get me tickets to all the events, so I guess I'll get to see you swim live," I mentioned nonchalantly, but secretly wondering what he would think.

"That's great, Bella! I'm really glad that you will be there. I mean, at least I'll get to see you again soon, and who knows . . .maybe your presence will help me swim faster."

I was relieved at his enthusiasm. He wasn't going to think I was a stalker.

We finally realized how late it was getting and both stood at the same time. As we walked outside into the damp, Beijing air, Edward grabbed my hand once more, linking our fingers as he'd done before. He insisted on walking with me to my hotel "for safety reasons" and I was incredibly grateful for more time alone with him. We continued to find out more about each other as we walked. Edward seemed particularly interested in getting to know even the most nitpicky details about me--what color I liked, what car I drove--anything that he could think of.

When we reached the front of my hotel, we stopped in unison. I let go of his hand, and again felt that great loss, only this time more pronounced now that I knew him--the man behind the famous face. I smiled up at him, unsure how to act. "Thanks, Edward. Thanks for dinner, and well, thanks for trusting me."

"No, thanks for trusting me!" Edward replied, then pulled me into a brief intense hug. He released me and ran his finger down my cheek before stepping back. "I guess I'll see you later?" he questioned and I mentally did a tap dance at the fact that he wanted to see me again.

"Sure, I'll be at the meet tomorrow. I'll be cheering as loudly as I can," I promised.

As he turned to walk away, I went through the double doors of my hotel on shaky legs, praying that I'd manage to get a little bit of sleep, although I knew it was a very faint possibility.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: thanks for all your support for this story--the amount of it has kind of blown Tami and I away, and we love you guys!!**

**This chapter is written by moi, bethaboo.**

* * *

EPOV

"Edward, what the _hell _was that?"

I heard Carlisle even through the water in the cooldown pool, his voice a lot louder than normal. I wondered idly how long I could hold my breath and avoid this confrontation, since I knew he had more than one reason to be angry.

Likely, he was pissed that I'd broken the record by so much. Honestly, I hadn't even thought I was on world record pace—I'd just been so happy to _finally _be swimming, with Bella watching, and I'd slipped into a groove, barely thinking as my arms powerfully cut through the water.

When the race ended, I'd thrown my head up through the water, knowing I'd won, but entirely in the dark as to my time.

Typically, as always, there was a huge surge of cheering applause, and though it seemed pretty loud to me, I didn't realize why until I noticed the time and the little "WR" next to the numbers. _Shit. I'd broken the world record. Again. Carlisle was not going to be happy._

Pushing off with a little flipper kick, I reached the surface and felt the weight of his glare even from across the room. To my surprise, the room had emptied out of all the various hangers-on, trainers, and coaches that were typically present after a competitive swim.

Of course, this hadn't really been a competitive swim for me. Technically, yes, it was, but the 400 IM was one of my best events and nobody was going to even touch me in the prelims. Carlisle had emphasized that my approach was supposed to be laidback and cautious. Under no circumstances was I to be aggressive or swim my hardest, even if it looked like I might get second in the heat. All I needed was to continue making it through the heats to the final, where I would pull out all the stops.

Unfortunately, it seemed to Carlisle that I'd done exactly that, only in the preliminary heat. I'd have to heft myself out of the pool and explain to him that swimming that fast had seemed as natural as breathing.

I crossed the large pool in a matter of seconds and easily lifted myself out of the water.

Carlisle was standing a few feet back from the pool's edge, his arms crossed over his broad chest. I hadn't exactly loved him glaring at me, but his expressionless face seemed even worse.

"What's up?" I asked, even though I knew exactly what was bothering him. He thought I'd purposefully disregarded his instructions and his coaching.

"What's up? I'll tell you what's up, Edward, that little macho display you just put on. There was _no need _to bust the record that way."

I shrugged, hoping that my nonchalance would convince him that I'd had no intention of breaking the record, and that this would diffuse the situation.

"I didn't realize how fast I was swimming." Right as the words came out of my mouth, I wanted to drag them back. The best way to raise Carlisle's ire was to admit that you weren't aware of your body and your opponents and everyone's position relative to the pool during a competitive swim. And I'd just walked right into it.

"You _what_?" Carlisle's expression grew positively fierce as he nearly spit the words out.

I shifted my weight nervously from foot to foot, feeling twelve years old again and unable to look my coach and father in the face because I'd made a tactical error while racing boys three years older than I was.

"I knew I was winning," I shot back. "I didn't feel tired. So I swam like I felt like."

"You're not here," Carlisle seethed, "to swim the way you 'feel like.' You're here to _win._"

His annoyed and patronizing tone seemed to light a small bonfire that had been slowly building, one piece of wood at a time, for as long as I could remember.

"And I won!" I finally yelled at him, "I fucking won the race. What more do you want from me?"

Further sending me down my enraged path was the exaggerated calm Carlisle exuded. I wanted him to be angry too, and yelling louder than I was. Resentment bubbling inside of me, I wanted him to lose that famous self-control he had so much pride in.

"Edward," Carlisle replied, more patronizingly than I probably deserved, "you have twelve more races. This means pacing yourself and not burning out by the last race."

"I feel great," I sulked.

"Which is surprising considering the fact that when I called you at 9 PM last night, you didn't answer your phone."

_Damn it. I'd been with Bella, at dinner_. _I'd turned it off because I knew he'd call and check on me and I hadn't wanted a single second of our time together interrupted or even worse, wasted. Every moment, every smile, every brush her hand on mine, was meant to be savored and enjoyed._

I took an inward deep breath and tried to ignore the way my conscious was screaming at me. "I was in the bathroom."

"Ah," Carlisle replied, a knowing look on his face. I could tell he thought I was lying, which didn't surprise me in the least. I'd never even had a reason to lie to them before, thus my great inability to actually commit the crime with aplomb, when it came down to it.

To my surprise, Carlisle turned to go. I breathed a sigh of relief, but before I could really relax, he threw over his shoulder, "Go finish warming down and then we need to talk about some . . .developments with the press."

My stomach sank to my bare feet. He knew about Bella. He knew I'd been to dinner with her, and from the tone of his voice he was exceedingly displeased.

_That doesn't matter,_ I told myself, _you're going to see Bella again. You have to see her again. No matter what Carlisle says or threatens you with._

I straightened my back and my resolve, as I dove back into the pool. _Nothing Carlisle could say would keep me from her now that I thought she might feel a fraction of what I felt for her._

As I swam my cooldown laps, I couldn't help but think about Bella. She filled my thoughts until I felt like I was drowning in her.

I'd dated before, but the relationships, though they could hardly even be termed that, ended almost before they began. No woman wanted to take third fiddle behind swimming and my parents, and I had never felt feelings strong enough to even consider switching around my priorities to please someone else. Maybe this was why Bella had hit me like a hurricane, throwing me into an intense whirlwind of self-doubt, attraction and need.

The winds of change were swirling around me, and it wasn't just because I was determined to alter my way of life after Beijing. Last night I'd known the moment I'd grasped her hand that I could never let Bella go. Somehow, she had to be the woman I'd always envisioned being with after my competitive swimming days slowed down.

I couldn't deny that the timing could have been a little better, but last night, as I'd tossed and turned, wishing she was with me still, I'd decided that the timing didn't matter. I would defy Carlisle and his many rules if I had to. And I liked the idea of her watching me swim here.

Feeling rejuvenated and refreshed by my leisurely cooldown swim, I headed off to the trainers room for a quick massage before finding Carlisle and seeing how much he knew about Bella and I.

I'd had a million massages in my lifetime, but ever since meeting Bella, all I could think of was her while I was lying facedown on the table, and how much I wished that the small capable hands manipulating my muscles were hers. Now, after knowing how soft her skin was, and how completely touchable she was, the fantasies were gnawing at me with a new hunger.

Women had always been easy for me, not that I had ever had much time to enjoy them. Bella, on the other hand, felt like a challenge, something that would be worth winning, with her kind intelligence and her warm smile. You knew, deep down, when you met her that she would be honest and trustworthy, that she would never backstab or betray you. In this environment, that kind of trust was rare and unique, like a diamond framed in gold.

The masseuse finished up, and when I glanced up, I was again struck by disappointment not to see a pair of warm brown eyes glowing down at me. _You are really losing it, _I told myself, _losing it in a big way. You've got to get it together for Carlisle so you can hold your ground._

Wrapping a towel around myself, I headed back to the locker room to shower and throw on my warm-ups.

Finally emerging, and not even feeling the slightest bit tired, I sauntered into the lounge, and over to Tyler, who was totally stretched out, with his eyes closed. Noting the earbuds he had in, I poked him hard in the arm.

He gave no outward indication that he'd felt my finger poke him, but I knew better than that. I did it again, only harder this time, and this time, he reached up and pulled the earbuds out, but he refused to open his eyes.

"What do you want, Cullen?"

"Have you seen Carlisle?"

Tyler lazily jabbed his finger back toward the conference room that the US team used for all it's meetings. _Great. Fantastic. He had to go make it all official, didn't he, _I thought to myself resentfully.

Not even bothering to thank Tyler, I stormed up to the glass door and barged right in.

Glancing around, I stopped in my tracks. Esme being present, I could understand, since Carlisle knew she was a good facilitator between him and I; if anyone could keep things from escalating too much, it would be her. But why on earth was Rob here? Carlisle, for all his shortcomings, did like to keep our family business private, and I couldn't imagine him chastising me for going to dinner with Bella in front of Rob. I began to breathe just a touch easier, the thought snaking its way through my mind that perhaps this wasn't about Bella after all.

I still hadn't forgiven him for that horrid Jessica Rabbitt debacle, and when his eyes met mine in greeting, I gave him the strongest glare I could muster. There was no way I was going to let him off easy after the way I'd had to spend most of yesterday.

"Edward," Esme said, giving me a quick hug, "congratulations on your world record." I inwardly winced, waiting for Carlisle to start harping on that again, but he didn't say a word.

Once Esme stepped away, I could see that Carlisle frown was growing, but before he could explode at me, Rob cut in, further endangering his own life.

"Edward, we're meeting today to discuss your press coverage. Why don't you take a seat and we'll get started." Rob was acting like _he _was in charge of the meeting, which made no sense if this was all about Bella. _Thus, _I concluded, _she's still a secret. Thank goodness._

I sat down on the other side from Esme and Carlisle. Even if this wasn't about Bella, I had a feeling I wasn't going to like it much.

"We have a problem with the press," Rob announced next, as soon as I was seated.

At the mere mention of the press, my ears perked up.

"A big problem," Carlisle added, his eyebrows slamming together, a dire expression on his face.

"So what is it?" I asked nonchalantly, completely unconcerned and not intending to become concerned—it was an amazing day and I was going to keep it that way.

Esme sighed, the sound barely audible in the room, and all of Rob and Carlisle's foreboding pronouncements couldn't produce the effect that her one small sound did. I knew that when Esme sounded dismayed, something was truly wrong.

"What?" I had to ask again, since nobody seemed to want to take the job of telling me.

Finally, Rob ran a hand through his hair, and spoke up. "From both the interviews you gave yesterday, Edward, and a few that you did before we flew over from the States, it looks as if the press is beginning to think you're a bit. . .reserved."

Before I could ask what Rob meant by 'reserved,' Carlisle's harsher than necessary voice added itself to the equation.

"What Rob means to say is that you've alienated the press by being too quiet and too cautious."

Esme sighed again and I felt my brain near an explosion point. How much shit was I going to be subjected to today?

_At least, _I told myself, _they've elected to keep any shit regarding Bella out of this._

"I don't understand," I said, honestly not getting what the whole issue was. Of course I didn't share myself with the press. It seemed incredibly ludicrous that they assumed I would.

"Some of the reporters are calling you stuck up and rude. They're writing about it, even, and your reputation is taking a serious blow."

"I can't believe this," I said bitterly, "why would anyone do that? I wasn't rude or cruel to them. I just didn't tell them everything about me.

"Correction," Carlisle replied with a stern expression, "you didn't tell them _anything_."

_Ready. Set. Burn._

I jumped to my feet, the chair slamming backwards into the wall. Resting my palms on the table, I stared my father straight in the eye.

"I answered every damn question they asked me."

Suddenly Carlisle was also on his feet, and I met his flashing eyes with more than a little trepidation. Sometimes I felt that the jewel-bright green tint of my eyes and the ability to swim faster than anyone else were the only things my dad had ever given me.

"Technically yes, but you weren't cooperative. You were purposefully short with your answers."

"Of course I was," I yelled, unable to keep my voice or my temper down anymore, "I want to keep my private life private."

"Guess what," Carlisle roared into the silence, "you _can't_. You're a famous celebrity. You knew what you were signing up for when you decided to swim competitively in this kind of environment. I told you, so many times, and I warned you that the invasiveness might bother you. But you didn't care. All you thought about was the gold medals and the glory."

Resentment bubbled up from inside of me, a hot tar that seemed to burn everything it touched.

"I've done every single damn thing you've ever asked. Nobody can force me to do this." I crossed my arms over my chest, planted my feet, and prepared to hold out against both Carlisle and Rob.

"You want to look bad? Fine. Your choice. But then don't be surprised at the backlash when you come back to America with your load of medals. Nobody is going to want to applaud a snotty brat."

Esme stood up and her calm, sweet voice echoed through the room. "Carlisle, Edward, we all need to take a deep breath, I think." I could still hear the faint Georgia accent from her childhood reflected in her tone and it was immeasurably soothing. My anger was wilting, and I could see the reflection in Carlisle's body language.

"That's a splendid idea," Rob added, sending her one of his charming smiles.

"A solution," she continued, "is really what we need. Something that would improve Edward's standing despite the negative press, without making him feel intruded upon."

"Of course. . ." Carlisle started, but shut down at one look from his wife.

"Edward must be okay with this solution. It's his life, after all, but I think the situation calls for a compromise. How would you feel about one single reporter, Edward?"

"One reporter?" I asked hesitantly. I didn't feel good about _any _reporters, but I supposed I could at least hear the idea out. Of course, nobody had to know that I'd already tuned them all out, and was thinking about how thick and shiny Bella's hair was, and how good it would feel sliding across my. . .

"That's it," Carlisle crowed, catching on to where Esme was going. He exchanged a quick look with Rob, and continued. I cursed them all for interrupting my daydream. "We give one reporter an exclusive. Let them follow Edward around during the next week and a half—then they can write some fantastically positive article about his success."

I couldn't even express how much I hated being talked about while being present. Of course, after the dozens of meetings I'd been to during the last few years, I should be used to it by now, but I wasn't. It seemed as if everything I'd slowly become accustomed to was suddenly overwhelmingly frustrating, and my no-longer dulled reactions were all due to one brown-haired reporter.

The idea hit me like a mallet to the face. _Bella _was a reporter. Carlisle and Rob wanted a _reporter _to follow me around for the next week and a half. I would have unfettered and unchallenged access to her beautiful person. We could talk all the time. Otherwise, I knew I'd be spending all my time circumventing Carlisle and his stupid rules.

"I think this is a great idea," I announced, and was greeted with surprised silence. No doubt they all thought they'd have to talk me into the plan. However, they clearly had never met Bella Swan. _Or held her hand, _I thought to myself, letting my mind drift again to how soft and smooth and beautiful her skin had felt under mine. And that was just her hand_._

"You do?" Carlisle asked, a frown forming, as he clearly tried to figure out why it was that I was so eager to spend time with the press when only five minutes before I'd indicated that I couldn't stand reporters of any kind.

"Yes," I nodded, "and I know exactly who it is that I want shadowing me."

Rob's face took on an extraordinarily excited expression, and I knew who he thought I was going to pick, and what kind of bonuses would be available to him after I did. I almost felt sorry for him in that fleeting instant, because I was beginning to understand how it felt to have your sun rise and set around a woman, but the sympathy couldn't quite develop due to his unfortunate choice in females.

"So," Esme asked with a smile on her face, "who is it? Have we met them?"

"No, not exactly," I stalled, suddenly afraid that I'd be exposing me and my predilection for certain company with my words.

Carlisle raised one eyebrow in question and any further delay was impossible. I had to tell them and be prepared for the resistance I'd face. Bella had confided she was not from a major newspaper, but still, from the largest newspaper in Oregon. I wondered if that would be enough for Carlisle and Rob. I wasn't holding my breath though. They were notoriously difficult to please individually, and as a pair, they were even worse.

"Her name is Isabella Swan and she writes for the Oregonian newspaper."

There was a few seconds of shock and confusion on everyone's face as they searched their minds for a memory of such a person.

Rob was the only who got it, and he looked decidedly annoyed. "You mean the girl that Alice Hale added last minute?" he questioned.

"Yes."

"I've never heard of this newspaper," Carlisle asked sternly. "It's not a major daily newspaper. We want something that will be read and with some serious circulation. Where is it? In Oregon?"

"The biggest newspaper in Oregon," I said proudly, "and it's read in Vancouver too." I was nearly quoting Bella here, but I figured it was all for a good cause.

"Vancouver BC?" Esme asked with a frown.

"No, Vancouver, Washington." Everyone's expressions told me what they thought of that, and I wasn't sure I disagreed, but my heart and my mind were committed to seeing this through now and I wasn't about to back down.

"That isn't going to work," Carlisle said flatly.

"I won't do it if we ask anyone else."

"What about Jessica Rabbitt?" Rob asked with a smidgen of hope left in his voice.

"Absolutely no way. I don't want her within forty feet of me ever again." I tried to pack as much convincing attitude into that statement and my body language, knowing I'd need it.

"She works for US Weekly," Rob countered, "that circulates a lot more widely than the freaking Oregonian, or whatever it's called."

"I don't care," I said stubbornly. "It's Bella or nobody. I trust her, and I don't usually trust members of the press."

"You _never _do," Esme mumbled happily, a smile creeping across her face. I had a feeling she knew exactly what this was all about, but I'd long passed the point of caring. All I wanted was Bella beside me.

Carlisle sighed and ran his hand through his hair in a gesture that was so similar to mine that I felt a sense of déjà vu. "Fine," he agreed, "but after the article is written, I think we should encourage her editors to run it in other newspapers. Syndicate it."

"I'm sure that they'd be eager to pick it up," I said with so much happiness in my voice I was afraid they'd sense it and change their minds.

"I guess I should be grateful you agreed at all," Carlisle mused, and I couldn't say I blamed him.

Not only did I feel the thrill of spending so much time in the future with Bella, but for the first time in as long as I could remember, I'd stood up to my dad and told him how I felt and made sure it mattered. Nothing had ever felt so good. I felt vindicated for all those years I'd spent in selfless slavery.

"I'll make the arrangements then," Rob added, voice full of defeat.

"Actually," I broke in, "I'd like to call her and tell her myself, if you don't mind."

"Of course," Carlisle said, a bit of a knowing look in his eye. He, like Esme, had clearly figured out my preference for Bella. But that was okay, as long as I'd won. "Let's all meet back here at 7 PM, if Miss Swan is available."

"Excellent," Rob said, clearly thinking that this whole plan was anything but.

"Great," I headed toward the door, "I'll see you guys then."

The door swung closed behind me and I couldn't prevent a quick fist pump of victory as I made my way to the shuttle stop outside the Water Cube.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Thanks for all your support and reviews! This chapter is written by the FABULOUS Tamelaine, my co-author. Next one by me! Squeeeee!!**

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EPOV

Bella. Just thinking her name made my heart start beating rapidly and my palms clammy. I eyed the tiny cellphone sitting on the conference table in front of me with trepidation. It was time.

I picked up the phone, and searching through my contacts, settled on Bella's name. She'd programmed her number into my phone the night before and I'd been dying to use it despite my nerves. I glanced down at my shaking hands and closed my eyes, trying to calm myself down. I'd called women on the phone before, just none that had really mattered to me. This was Bella, though. Somehow she was becoming more important to me than anyone. Ever.

Finally, I managed to get control over myself using the same breathing method I'd always used before competitions. I glanced down at the phone once again, and hit the send button, waiting anxiously for the call to connect. The phone clicked and I heard her voice on the other end.

"Hello?" she questioned, sounding a bit breathless. While she sounded slightly different on the phone, her voice still held that soft, soothing quality that I'd become so enamored of.

"Bella? This is Edward. Edward Cullen," I said, then paused, waiting for her to say something.

"Edward! How are you doing? That was an amazing race this morning," she exclaimed. She sounded just as happy to be talking to me as I was to be on the phone with her.

"I'm well. Actually, I have a favor to ask of you."

"Sure, whatever you need?" she ended her remark with a question.

"Can you meet up with me and my father for a meeting?" I heard her sharp intake of breath.

"Meeting? I knew it. I'm in trouble for distracting you, aren't I?" she asked frantically.

"Maybe. I guess you'll have to show up to find out, huh?" I teased her, but just a little. She was just too cute in her panic.

"Okay...when?" she questioned.

"Are you free later on this evening?" I was hoping she was. Somehow, I didn't think I could stand it if I had to wait any longer to see her again.

"Yes, I am." I could definitely tell from her voice that she was nervous.

"Can you meet us in Conference Room 12 in the water cube at 7?"

"Um, sure. Do I need to bring anything?"

"Nope, just your beautiful self," I answered, so glad she'd agreed so quickly that smile was probably rivaling a halogen lamp.

I drummed my fingers in anticipation for a moment, before getting up to go to the door. I opened it and gestured to my father and Rob to come inside. They were leaning against the opposite wall, and it looked like they'd been having a hushed conversation. They'd immediately stopped when I opened the door, but I could see the guilt in their faces.

My father was looking at me suspiciously as he walked past me into the room. I decided to let it go. I'd won. I could do a victory dance. We'd had enough acrimony between us for the day and I was going to see Bella any moment.

They sat at the long, wooden table against the far wall. I chose to remain standing. The room was completely silent as we all stared at one another, waiting. Me for the gorgeous reporter that was quickly becoming essential to my existence, Rob--a bit disappointed that I hadn't chosen to use his idea of a reporter was waiting to see the person who'd usurped her, and my father, who kept shooting curious glances in my direction, wondering, I was sure, about the reason I'd suddenly become defiant.

Finally, there was a soft knock at the door. I stood up quickly and walked to it, wanting to yank it open and haul her into my arms. I reigned in my instincts, and calmly opened the door, giving Bella my best smile to welcome her.

BPOV

I walked on shaky legs to the door of the conference room. _You're just going to meet the amazing guy that you had dinner with last night, _I told myself. No reason to be nervous. _And his family, _that little voice interjected . I shook it off. Edward hadn't seemed upset, so there was no reason I was going to be worried that Carlisle Cullen wanted to meet me right after I'd kept his son out late the night before his first race. No reason at all.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. After a moment, I went to open it, only to find the handle yanked out of my hand. Edward stood on the other side, beaming his glorious smile at me, and I could hardly look away. I answered with a grin of my own, and continued to look into his eyes for one long, breathless moment as he reached out to grasp my hand in a handshake that was far from professional due to the way he held on so tightly--like he never wanted to let me go. The loud sound of a throat clearing behind him broke our connection and I hastily withdrew my hand hoping that no one else in the room noticed what had passed between us.

It was not to be. Edward stepped aside and I could see two men sitting at the long conference table against the wall. Carlisle Cullen was looking at me with a mixture of annoyance and something else I couldn't identify--it was almost speculative in nature. The other man I recognized as his manager and it suddenly dawned on me that I was either really in trouble or here for a more professional purpose.

Walking forward, I felt Edward's hand settle at the small of my back, guiding me to a seat across the table from the men. He pulled my chair out for me once again, and waited for me to seat myself, then sat in the chair next to me. I was surprised that he would sit so close to me in the presence of his father. I almost jumped when I felt his large hand pat me reassuringly on the leg before setting both hands once again on the table.

"So, shall we start?" he asked, looking around the table at each of us. He sounded almost giddy, and I could feel him bouncing his legs up and down in excitement due to our close proximity. I looked at him curiously. Despite our short acquaintance, somehow I didn't think he was one to get excited too often.

"This is Isabella Swan. She's the reporter I told you about who works for The Oregonian and does incredible work." He gestured to the two men across the table.

"This is Carlisle--my dad, and my manager Rob Pattinson." We stood up and shook hands across the table before seating ourselves again.

"Bella," he said, turning back to me again, "the reason why we've asked you here, is we would like you to do an exclusive interview. You'd follow me around, spend quite a bit of time with me learning my habits, asking questions, anything you can think of really, for the rest of the Olympics here in Beijing." I'm sure my eyes had widened to epic proportions because he stopped talking and waited for my reaction, which was not long in coming.

"What?" I burst out. "Why? And why me?"

Carlisle answered this time. I wasn't surprised to find his voice just as entrancing as Edward's was to me. Was everything about the men in this family beautiful? "Well you see, Edward hasn't been very good at cooperating with reporters. He doesn't answer their questions fully, doesn't engage them in conversation, or do anything that they need to get a really good interview, so they've retaliated by writing unflattering articles about him. His reputation is going downhill fast as someone who is too good for everyone else, rude, and uncooperative." He looked at me steadily for a moment, and I flushed because, of course that is how I _had_ thought of Edward until I'd gotten to know him. Carlisle continued after a moment. "Of course he's not like that, but he's been too cautious and divulged too little information. What we want from you is damage control. We want an article featuring his human side--not the super human swimmer side. Do you think you can do that?"

"Um, of course I can do that. But, I still don't understand." I turned to Edward to explain. "Why me? I mean, I would love to do this, really. It would be a dream come true in so many ways, but I'm concerned. If this is about your reputation, you really should go to someone who works for a magazine or newspaper with better circulation. The Oregonian is widely read--in Oregon and a small part of Washington, but not the whole country. I couldn't imagine that it would help redeem your reputation any." I mentally cringed at the career suicide I was committing. This was my big break, the one my boss was expecting from me when he agreed to let me come, and here I was throwing it away because I couldn't stand the thought of Edward being criticized unfairly. The whole world deserved to know just how amazing he was, and that was all that mattered in that moment.

"I chose you," Edward explained. "I chose you because I trust you, because you are the only reporter I could stand to be with day after day." His expression changed to one of intensity and he looked at me pleadingly. "Please, Bella? Will you do this for me? We'll have other papers pick up the story later on, so you don't have to worry about the exposure of the story."

I suddenly realized that doing this would mean I could see Edward every single day. How could I say no then? "Yes, Edward, of course I'll do this for you."

His jubilant grin was contagious and I found my smile widening involuntarily. "Okay, so I'll give you a copy of my schedule and we can work out when I have free time outside of the pool and other obligations. I want you to have some free time to go watch your friends' events too, so don't worry about me monopolizing all your time. I think this is going to work out perfectly," he looked from me to his father and manager, who were both looking at us suspiciously.

"Thank you Miss Swan, for doing this for us. I've never seen Edward so excited to do an interview before," Carlisle said dryly and he looked back and forth between us. "We'll get back to you with his exact schedule a bit later, if you don't mind?"

"That sounds fine. I promise you that I'll do my best to reclaim Edward's unblemished reputation with this article," I promised him.

He looked at me measuringly. "Somehow, I think I agree with Edward that you were right choice." I wasn't stupid--I knew exactly why he thought so.

Carlisle re-focused his attention on Edward. "I think its time we get you back to the village for some rest. You have a race tomorrow, and it's been a long day," he instructed.

Sensing my cue to leave, I stood. The men stood too, and after more handshakes and another thank you from Edward, I walked out the door.

I'd made it halfway down the hallway before a voice stopped me. "Hey! Bella, wait up," Edward called to me, walking rapidly to my side.

I looked up at him questioningly and he shuffled his feet, obviously trying to tell me something. "I just wanted to say thank you. It means a lot to me that you'd do this, more than you know," he burst out. Grabbing me around the waist, he pulled me into his large, muscled chest for a warm hug. I expected him to let go quickly, as he had the night before, but he held on to me, pulling me even closer to his body and wrapping his arms more fully around me. I snuggled in, content in a way I'd never felt before. Finally, he released me and I sighed in disappointment. If only I could have stayed in his arms forever.

Beaming his crooked grin, he once again swept his finger down my cheek, then stepped back. "So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow." It wasn't a question, but a fact and I wanted to jump for joy.

"Yep. I'll be at your races, for sure. Maybe we can meet after you're cool down routine and medal ceremony and work out a good schedule," I winked at him. Of course it was a given to me that he would win the gold, but I wanted him to know of my confidence.

"Great," he said, starting to turn away. "Oh, and Bella, can I call you if I can't sleep tonight? I've been having trouble lately, and I think talking to you might help."

I nodded, gave him one last smile, and walked on still-shaky legs towards the exit of the Water Cube.

As I neared the door of my hotel room, I noticed a slight person sitting with her back against the door, knees curled into her chest. _Alice. _I couldn't decide whether to tell all and unleash her scheming matchmaker alter-ego, or keep my very new relationship with Edward a secret. Then again, I had a sneaky suspicion that Alice knew everything and somehow had planned this. There was that little meeting on the plane, and of course the interview the night before. I narrowed my eyes at her as she got to her feet with a knowing grin on her face.

"So, let's hear it," she began, trailing after me as I walked into my room.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," I lied, although I knew exactly what she meant. I just couldn't figure out how she knew. Alice always seemed to know everything about her friends and family. I'd once jokingly accused her of hiring a private investigator to track me when she was waiting at my door after a particularly bad date.

"I know you were out last night," she began, "_after _the time you should have been home from your interview with Edward Cullen. So, what I want to know, since you obviously wouldn't have time to actually meet someone while interviewing, is if you were somewhere _with _him? I'm assuming you have better taste than his creepy manager." Her chin jutted out stubbornly, and I knew that it was truth-telling time. There was no way Alice was going to accept excuses or let this go. I sighed.

"Fine, Alice. I admit it. I went to dinner with Edward Cullen. Are you happy? Because I certainly am," I broke off in a huff, realizing that I'd said too much, and this would surely cause the matchmaker to insert herself firmly into place in her head. She'd been trying to set me up and find me my own Jasper since they'd met, and unfortunately hadn't succeeded yet. Then again, I was beginning to suspect that I'd managed to find him all on my own, and the thought was enough to send me into panic mode.

Edward was amazing, quite possibly the greatest man I'd met in many aspects, yet his life was entirely different from mine. I had the life of a journalist writing for a small paper, away from fame and camera lights and everything that came with it. And I lived in Oregon. He lived in Southern California. That was usually enough to send me running in the opposite direction, yet I couldn't. I was compelled in ways I'd never been to stick around and learn more, to fall deeper and deeper under his spell.

Alice was beaming at my words, but was watching me with a concerned look on her face. "Bella, if he makes you happy, then all your worries just may be worth it. I get it. You're different from him. You're a reporter. He's quite possibly not too keen on that profession. You live a fairly quiet life. Most of the world probably recognizes him. He's a famous athlete. You can't walk across a flat surface without tripping. All these differences don't matter in the long run if you have finally found someone who's worthy of you. Come here," she said, dragging me by the sleeve of my shirt over to the vanity.

"Look at yourself. Look at the sparkle in your eyes. I've never seen that starry-eyed look on you before and if he's the one who put it there, then I'd say he's worth a shot."

I glanced in the mirror and was surprised at my own reflection. Who was this woman starting back at me? Alice was right. I did have a sparkle in my eyes. I looked...happy and in love. In love? I inwardly cringed, but couldn't deny it. I was falling in love with Edward Cullen, and I didn't think I could do anything to stop the free fall. I thought back to the few memories we had together. The first time he'd caught me ogling him on the plane, his intense stare as I'd retreated from the debacle in first class, the joking flirtation after I'd run over his toe. Then there was last night. The touch of his skin on mine as he'd intertwined our fingers together, that glimpse into his soul that he'd so unselfishly shared with me, and that brief but intense goodbye hug where I'd never wanted him to let me go.

Alice was right. He was worth it. I'd cast my doubts and fears aside for the moment and let it happen. I glanced at my flushed, glowing face once again in the mirror, and smiled.

Turning to Alice, I gave her a quick hug. "Thanks," I said, pulling back. "I needed that."

"That's what friends are for, and you know what this means?" Alice asked, then let out an ear splitting squeal. "I get to plan a way to get you another meeting with him!" She was bouncing up and down again, so I cut her off before the scheming could truly begin.

"Um, Alice hold on a minute," I pleaded, trying to get her to focus before she disappeared in dangerous, "planning mode."

"That's actually already taken care of." I explained about Edward and Carlisle asking me to do an exclusive. To my surprise, her face fell.

"You mean, I don't get to plan anything?"

"I'm afraid not. I think I can handle things on my own this time," I answered, giving her a look of sympathy. I knew it would be hard for her not to be involved.

"You'll at least tell me if he kisses you, right? Unless he already has," she said, glaring at me.

"No, he hasn't. And if Edward Cullen kissed me, I definitely wouldn't be able to keep it from my best friend," I assured her.

"Okay! Great! I'm going to go tell Jazzy about this. Call me later," she pulled me into another brief hug, then danced out of the room.

I collapsed onto my bed as soon as the door clicked shut. Wanting to put off the call to my boss a little longer, I indulged in some day dreaming. I remembered Edward as he'd looked today, almost giddy at the thought of spending time with me. The feel of his arms as he'd pulled me in for that intense hug had been intoxicating, and I lingered on that memory. Finally, I rolled over and reached for my phone. Taking a deep breath, I sat up and prepared to talk to my boss.

After dialing, I waited, listening to the harsh tones of the phone ringing in my ear. Finally, there was click on the other end and a scruffy male voice answered. "Laurent speaking."

"It's Bella," I answered.

"Bella," he crowed on the other end. "I hope you have good news for me."

"Actually, I do. I just wanted to let you know that I've been granted an exclusive with Edward Cullen. I'll be following him around, spending as much time with him as possible during the next week in order to write an article featuring not only the Olympic athlete, but also his humanity as well. I guess there's been some bad press, and they want to counteract the negativity."

"Hmmm...Bella, that's brilliant. You've succeeded, far above my expectations. I must say I'm impressed," he gushed. I'd never heard that tone from Laurent before. He sounded practically gleeful. I smiled, excited that I was finally proving myself in the world of journalism. I'd definitely get my own byline after this.

That brief moment of happiness was shattered at his next sentence. "So, how does a reporter from such a small paper get an exclusive with a famous athlete? Tell me, Bella. How did you meet him?"

"Well, actually my friend Alice works for Nike and designed his suits. She managed to get me an initial interview and he decided that he trusts me," I explained.

"You're a beautiful woman. I'm sure he noticed that. So, did he ask you to interview him after a romantic dinner perhaps? Maybe he's more interested in getting to know you than the possible publicity," he mused aloud.

I felt resentment build up immediately inside of me. Of course Laurent would think that the only reason I'd be getting such a huge interview was by using my body instead of wit and skill. He'd always been a chauvinist. I glared at the wall in front of me and tried to keep my temper under control.

"Actually, I think he chose me because he trusts me to get it right. I'll email you some notes and an outline as soon as I can. Oh, and any friendship Edward and I form will be strictly off limits to you." I took a deep breath as I finished my small tirade.

"Okay, I hear you Bella. No need to get snippy with me. I want you to check in often and give me progress reports. Once again, it's impressive what you've accomplished in so short a time there. Make sure it continues." He hung up without even a goodbye and I sighed in relief before clicking the end button.

The reality suddenly hit me. Again. I was going to see Edward the next day . . . and the day after that . . . and even the day after that. I mentally formulated a list of questions to ask him--not for professional reasons of course, but purely personal. I wanted to know everything about him, from the way he slept (back, stomach or side), to the way he ate his eggs. I laughed aloud at my curiosity and decided he probably ate them every way possible, possibly a dozen at a time. I smiled at the mental picture of him sitting at a table surrounded by plates of eggs in every form with a big grin on his face.

My mental picture changed to one of him gazing at me, green eyes smoldering. I imagined what it would feel like to have him lean closer to me, his breath mingling with mine as he brushed our lips together. I, of course, would reach up and run my fingers through that glorious bronze hair like I'd been dreaming of doing since I'd watched on my tiny television with bated breath as he took his first gold medal at the Athens Games. I broke off my fantasy before it could become more detailed. I would need some wits about me if I was going to be in his presence the next day. I was determined not to have anymore clumsy episodes, and that meant I needed all the rest I could get.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: ** Thanks for all the support & reviews, as always! So great news, if any of you were reading Bella-of-the-Ball's great story, **Volterra Rocks!**, you heard the sad news that she was giving her stories away. I'm thrilled to be able to announce that I'll be helping the great Halojones continue this story. I do promise, however, that it won't interfere with either this story OR Turning Dust into Gold.

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BPOV

_I glanced down and smoothed the fabric, the red of the cocktail dress so bright that I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. It was like a train wreck and all I could think was, "Why am I getting married in a red dress?"_

_I looked more like a waitress at the Golden Nugget or another cheesy casino than a bride._

_Hell, why was I getting married at all?_

_It was only as I thought the word, "bride," then, "married," that I realized that for me to be a bride or for there to be a wedding at all, there'd have to be a groom. . . ._

_Looking down the long (did aisles always look this interminably long to brides?) walkway, I saw a single figure waiting for me. Naked._

_I wanted to look down or even better, sink through the floor. I thought that in dreams, you were always the one who was naked. I guess my REM cycle had decided to switch it up._

_Without taking a single step forward, I felt myself moving towards the unclothed man. I knew I was at least as red as my dress. At first, he was just a blurry figure—and honestly I was happy to keep him that way—but the closer I got, the more distinctive he became until I knew exactly who he was._

_Edward Cullen. I was about to marry Edward Cullen. My heart sped up and I felt distinctively nauseous._

_I opened my mouth to apologize, either because we were getting married or maybe because I was making the mistake of getting married in a red cocktail dress, but before I could say a word, I heard a terrible ringing sound._

_It sounded so familiar, but at the same time incredibly foreign. A sound you'd never want to hear at a wedding ceremony. . ._

I shot up in bed and blindly groped first for the lamp, gave up on finding the switch in my sleepy clumsiness, and then felt around for my ringing cell phone.

Finally, I managed to find its distinctive rectangular shape on the table, and I flipped it open without even checking the caller ID. I wasn't even sure I could read it without my glasses anyway, and if I tried to find those, the call would never get answered.

"Hello?" I said groggily.

"Bella? This is Edward. Edward Cullen."

I nearly dropped the phone like it was a cobra about to strike. Had he known I'd just been dreaming about him? That we were about to get married? Why was he calling me?

After a moment of panicked silence, he continued a bit awkwardly, "You said I could call if I couldn't sleep. . ."

Yep, I did tell him that. Not that I ever thought in a million years he'd follow through with it, or that he'd pick me to call to help him relax.

"Oh yeah, sorry, I was just sleeping. Need a minute for the brain to wake up."

"I'm the sorry one. I shouldn't have called and woken you up." His voice sounded repentant and guilty and I couldn't stand it. If he wanted to call me—if I was really who he wanted, then who was I to argue?

"No, no, no. Don't be sorry. I'm just cranky when I wake up. So you couldn't sleep?"

There was a loud, frustrated sigh from Edward.

"Not at all." The irritation he obviously felt was rife in his voice.

"And you usually don't have any trouble?" I felt like I was having to drag this out of him a bit at a time, and he insisted that he even trusted me. I didn't even want to know how reticent he was with people he didn't trust.

Another sigh. "Never. I'm kind of notorious on the team actually, for my ability to sleep anywhere, for as long as I want."

"And you can't do that anymore?" I knew I was prying a little, but what else was I supposed to do when he called me up in the middle night and told me he couldn't sleep?

"I wouldn't be calling you then, would I?" Edward's voice was teasing a little now, and I let my mind wander a little, thinking of him lying in his bed, the covers rumpled around him, clothed only in a pair of boxers.

Gah, Bella, don't go there. You'll only offer to come over and help him get to sleep.

"True," I laughed a little self-consciously. "So how do you feel about the race tomorrow?"

"The 400 IM? I'm more excited than nervous. It's one of my best events, and in the prelim I broke the record without even trying. But honestly, I don't want to talk about swimming."

"No? Does it make you feel anxious to talk about swimming?"

"Not at all. It's just what I talk about with everyone else. I want us to talk about more."

"More?"

"Like. . .what kind of music do you listen to?"

I smiled. "Oh, you know, a little bit of everything." Two could play this game, I thought with relish.

"You are such a tease," Edward laughed, and I leaned back in bed, smiling so hard I thought my face would split in half.

"Never," I smirked sarcastically.

"Okay, so if you won't tell me, then I'll tell you . . ."

"Like what you listen to on your iPod before you swim?" I interrupted, digging a pad out of the bedside table. If he was going to wake me up I was going to use what he said—as long as it had nothing to do with what was rapidly blossoming between us despite my better judgment.

"Exactly. Believe it or not, it's none of this jazzed up on crack rap stuff that guys like Tyler listen to. I'm usually so hyped up and excited before a race anyway, I need something to relax me, focus me. So a lot of classical music in my iPod before a race."

"Like what kind of classical?" I asked as I tucked the cell phone under one ear and began to busily scribble away.

"Debussy is my favorite," Edward said.

"Really? I love Debussy too, though my favorite is probably Rachmaninoff."

"You listen to classical music?" he asked, a definite note of interest and surprise in his voice.

"I guess, like you, I find it calming and relaxing. Have you tried listening to Debussy to help you sleep?"

He sighed. "Oh yeah. Didn't work. But you want to know something? Your voice calms me even more than Debussy."

* * *

I knew that traveling to Beijing—to the other side of the world—would be a major point in my life. What I didn't know was that I would meet the most amazing man I could ever dream of.

Sitting in the stands of the Water Cube with Alice and Jasper, I tried to take some deep calming breaths. If I'd thought that realizing I might love Edward Cullen had filled me with nervous excited butterflies capable of inducing a panic attack, watching him swim competitively live was much much worse.

Luckily, the first race this morning was Edward's 400 IM final.

He'd been so incredibly dominant yesterday that I tried to think that this wouldn't be a very nerve-wracking race to watch. He'll demolish the competition, I assured myself. Except that my heart rate was spiraling out of control, and they had yet to announce any of the swimmers for the final.

"I don't know why they choose to do the finals in the morning," I hissed to Alice, "I haven't been awake long enough to deal with all this stress."

Alice, absorbed in combing through the crowds for celebrities, glanced my direction and then looked back again more carefully. "Bella, you look almost green," she said with a note of worry in her voice.

"That's because I'm freaking out here," I nearly yelled at her.

"Geez, Bella, we're right here." Jasper's voice was good natured and he smiled at me kindly but even that didn't help. It was if I could see myself from a long distance away—and I could acutely sense my hyperventilation but there was nothing I could do to prevent it.

Naturally, this was the moment the deep-voiced announcer choose that moment to announce the race, and its final competitors.

Each swimmer's name and country was announced. Then their accomplishments were repeated in English, French, then Chinese.

Edward was in lane four, due to his world record performance yesterday. He strode out onto the deck, eyes focused hard on the pavement, not even looking up. His beautiful hair was totally covered up with the swim cap, and he looked like an alien—totally unlike the man I'd gotten to know.

But, I told myself, this is the man he is. Pool water runs in his veins. He's more comfortable in a swimsuit than in street clothes.

Finally, they finished announcing the field, and I watched as Edward took off his warm-up suit and ear buds.

As the zipper on his jacket descended downward, I was transfixed by the smoothly muscled skin gradually exposed to my view. We'd been running late yesterday and had missed the disrobing part of the introduction. All I knew was that we were never going to be late again and miss this.

Even though the whole enormous crowd could see him, and were probably close to being as transfixed as I was, it didn't matter—I felt as if this was just for me.

Then his eyes looked up, found me as if it was the easiest thing in the world to pick one person out of thousands, and then I knew for sure, from the way our gazes locked, that I hadn't been wrong or crazy.

He held my gaze like I was his favorite lifeline, and he didn't break it until he had to, until he was forced to pull the goggles over his green eyes, and put himself away from me.

"Phew," Alice sighed out a long-held breath. "I think I'm on fire and I was only sitting next to you." She over-dramatically fanned herself and I blushed.

"That's just because he's half naked," I teased back.

"Nope," Alice disagreed, "it's because that boy is crazy about you."

"Hush," I snapped good-naturedly. "The race is about to start."

Nerves coalesced in my stomach and my hands twisted in my lap again. I just wanted this over with, so I could maybe relax. Unless something went radically wrong, I knew he'd win the gold, but still, the small possibility that he'd lose sent waves of nervous nausea coasting through me.

"It'll be fine," Alice reassured me, leaning over and squeezing my twisted together hands.

"You don't know that," I argued.

"Yesterday he breezed right through that record like it was a walk in the park. I don't think you have anything to worry about. Besides, I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to lose in front of you."

"That has nothing to do with it," I protested hotly.

Alice rolled her eyes. "Then you really don't get it. Why do you think he broke the record yesterday so effortlessly?"

"Training and practice," I insisted stubbornly.

"Whatever, Bella," Jasper piped up. "Watch him today. And then I think you're going to realize that while of course he wants to win for him, right now he wants to win for you even more."

I sighed and turned back toward the figure bent over the blocks. He seemed unbelievably determined, but I told myself that this was normal. He'd have to be incredibly determined to be swimming in these Olympics with a shot at six gold medals.

I'd never seen anyone look so incredibly powerful as he did, poised to spring into the water. And when he finally did, it was with an innate grace that only seemed to make his power even more intense.

And naturally, he demolished the competition. Though I sat through the whole race with compressed lips and hands, praying silently that his dream wouldn't die before it even started, he led the whole race, most of it by a significant margin. On top of that, his gold medal victory came with yet another world record.

And right after he checked his time and placement on the big leaderboard and let out a fist pump of victory, his eyes found me in the audience once again and I knew his resounding smile, despite beaming to everyone in the Water Cube through its sheer wattage, was meant for me and me alone.

"See?" Alice pointed out to me with a bit of a smirk. "I told you that he'd win and he'd win it for you."

"I really doubt that the win was only for me," I replied back, more than a little sarcastically, "I think he probably wanted it a little too."

Alice would only know knowingly in response to my sarcasm.

There were several more races for us to watch this morning, but I knew I couldn't bear to sit through any more the moment he walked by our part of the stands, all dripping wet muscle and intense happiness. Then he shot me a devastating wink, and I shot to my feet, knowing I'd pretty much break into the back part of the Water Cube for a chance to congratulate him personally and privately—though the doubtful part of me insisted that there were a million other more important people that he'd want—no, need—to talk to.

Still, I didn't listen, and as I inched my way through the crowd, I thought of every convincing reason I could employ, in addition to my press pass.

Finally I was free of the stands, and prowling down the outside halls, I went straight for the door I'd been directed to the night before, and tried the knob. Unlocked.

As unobtrusively as I could, I slipped through the open door and was immediately greeted by a small Chinese man whose badge cleared identified him as security. Damn.

"Hello," he said ingratiatingly in perfect English, "do you have clearance for this area?"

I held out my press pass and started praying. My hopes sunk when his eyes took on a calculative gleam.

"You are press? You are covering a specific story?"

"Yes, yes," I said, grateful for the opening. "I am working with Edward Cullen, the swimmer. I need to find him."

"You are Bella Swan then?" he asked, examining my press badge more closely.

"Yes."

"Good. Mr. Cullen said you would be by."

"Edward?" I asked hopefully.

"No. Mr. Carlisle."

I was still absorbing the news that Edward's father had known I would be coming down here and had prepped the security team to expect my arrival as we walked down the corridor towards what I assumed was the cooldown pool.

We came out into a large room—not as large as the main arena of the Water Cube, but still a significant size—with a pool in it. I could see quite a few swimmers cooling down, but everyone stayed away from the far two lanes, as if everyone knew to give Edward his space.

"Here you are, Ms. Swan. Mr. Cullen likes to cool down on the far side." The security guard gave a very unsecurity-esque bow and left.

I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, then tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. Was I just supposed to go to him? Would that look creepy? Stalkerish? The last thing I wanted to do was freak him out.

"You should just go talk to him," I heard from behind me.

Whipping my head around, I saw Carlisle Cullen standing there, with a smile turning up the corner of his mouth.

"Really?"

"He's probably dying to see you. I wouldn't be surprised if he's working out a way to do it right now. Edward likes to think while he cools down."

"You think?" I knew I was sounding more than a little lost, but I couldn't help it—I'd never felt so out of my league. That was Edward Cullen swimming over there. Edward Cullen, who'd just won a gold medal, and who would probably win more.

Just then Esme Cullen appeared behind her husband. Apparently she'd heard the note of doubt in my voice.

"You have no idea, Bella, how much he wants to see you right now. One of the first things he said when he got out of the pool was 'where's Bella?'" Esme said reassuringly.

"Okay," I said with a big smile. I wasn't one hundred percent convinced, but it was ready to stop procrastinating.

I said goodbye to Carlisle and Esme and then began to make my way around the pool, stepping around the puddles carefully because I knew what Alice would do if I got my shoes wet.

I finally made it to the other side of the pool, and just stood there for a second, watching his form through the water. He was lazily swimming, his strokes still perfectly formed, just much, much slower than he'd swam twenty minutes before.

I wondered if he could hear me if I called his name and thought I would feel pretty stupid if I did and nothing happened. But before I could make up my mind whether to risk possible public embarrassment, Edward must have seen me through the corner of his eye because he was all of a sudden upright in the water and swimming toward me with a huge smile on his face.

"Bella!" he exclaimed, and if I hadn't been standing here, watching him with what I hoped was a mostly objective attitude, I would never have guessed that Edward Cullen would be greeting me with such joy.

"Edward! Congratulations!" I stood back a little as he hoisted himself out of the water easily, like he wasn't lifting his whole body by just his forearms. And what forearms they were, I thought in the daze of being confronted with a dripping wet, mostly naked Edward.

"Uh," I stammered, watching one glistening drop of water wind its way down between his impressive pecs and through the maze that was his succulent abdominals.

"Bella, I'm so glad you're here," he enthused, with more than a little genuine interest.

Edward took another step closer, and this time I could almost see all of the Olympic ring tattoo resting nearly on his hipbone. The leg-hugging swimsuit he wore was so low, I glanced down and felt myself begin to hyperventilate. I wanted to lick every ring in that tattoo.

"I'm . . .uh. . .glad to be here. . .with you," I finished lamely, swearing internally at myself for not being able to keep my thoughts PG rated.

"You managed to sneak back here?" Edward asked me a bit distractedly as he looked around for a towel.

I glanced down and saw one resting on a chair two steps to my left. I took one step and tried to grab it, but misjudged the distance and almost went sprawling on the pavement.

Only Edward grabbed me before my body could hit the hard surface.

And even better, he didn't let go immediately after.

My brain was firing at about a million times faster than it normally did and all I could process was, "wet muscles," as my hands went sliding up his incredible arms to rest on his even more spectacular shoulders.

I lifted my eyes to his and I swore I felt his hands tighten around my waist.

"Bella," Edward murmured, "you need to be more careful. I can't have you hurting yourself."

"Sorry," I said, trying to match his coolly sexy tone and I was sure, failing in the process.

"Oh, not that I mind. Holding you is," Edward said a bit dreamily as he bent his head down to bury his nose in my hair, "even better than I even imagined.

My fingers dug into all that amazingly smooth muscled skin, and a thought deep in my head noted that I was probably getting all wet too, but a bomb going off wouldn't have moved me. I wanted to stay right where I was, forever.

Finally, he moved his head up out of my hair and his eyes latched onto mine, much the same way they had earlier today. Then, to my mortification, I began to blush as his gaze shifted slightly downward, to my lips. I licked them nervously, and the corner of his mouth turned up in a smile.

"Bella," he murmured again, and his head dipped closer to mine, and I didn't think I would have noticed if the whole Water Cube burst into flames, I was so engrossed in what was about to be our first kiss. Me and Edward Cullen.

But it was not meant to be.

Just as our lips were about to touch, and my knees were about to give out, I heard a small commotion at the entrance to the pool and I looked over to see Rob Pattinson, Edward's manager, trying to get his attention. Quickly I stepped out of Edward's arms, blushing furiously.

Edward ripped off his swim cap, running a quick hand through his damp bronze hair, sending me into another wave of hopeless lust, and took off for the entrance, throwing me a quick look of apology.

And then, just as quick as the moment had begun, it was already over.

I tried to tell myself that it had been a temporary insanity. Edward had just been excited—he hadn't really intended to kiss me—and it was in this dejected mood that I went to go find Alice and Jasper.

"Where did you go?" Alice hissed, as I sat down and another race geared up to start.

"I wanted to go see Edward."

"How did you get back there?" Alice's questions weren't so much an interview as an interrogation. There was definitely a good reason she hadn't become a reporter.

"Press pass, remember?" I dangled my saving grace in front of Alice, who frowned.

"Even that shouldn't work."

I really hadn't wanted to tell her about Carlisle assuring me of entrance to the athletes' section of the facility and I definitely didn't want to tell her about the almost-kiss that Edward and I had shared.

But of course, that had been a vain hope. Despite her somewhat rough questioning style, Alice knew how to get to the base of the issue faster than almost anyone else I knew, and then there was this almost uncanny sense she had of things before they happened. Coupled together, I knew there was no way I'd be able to hold out against her.

"Carlisle told the security guards to let me in. And, well, I saw Edward and . . ." I whispered as I leaned down towards Alice's ear.

She perked right up. "And?"

"Well, I almost fell," I whispered back, ignoring her eye roll at my clumsiness, "and Edward caught me. And, well, we almost kissed."

"Why almost?" Alice nearly yelled, and I grabbed her and slammed a hand over her mouth.

"Do you want the whole Water Cube to know what's going on?"

Alice shrugged nonchalantly and I almost moaned. "This is supposed to stay secret."

"Why?"

"This isn't going to last, probably, and I don't want everyone to know there was something to begin with when it ends."

Alice rested her head on my shoulder and hugged me close. "You need to stop thinking that way. You and Edward are going to make it, I know." Her voice rang with assurance and confidence but it was hard to believe her still. Edward and I were from such different worlds.

"Will you promise me something?" she asked.

I nodded.

"If you and Edward actually do start something—like if he kisses you this afternoon—promise me that you won't freak out and end it before it begins."

"Uh. . ." I stammered. "I don't know about this. . ."

"Bella," Alice said sternly. "Promise me."

"Fine," I sighed, "I promise not to end it before it begins, though I doubt anything's going to happen anyway."

"Good." Alice turned back to the race that was about to start and I wondered if maybe she'd had one of her intuitions, again.

No, I told myself, you're just imagining things, and hoping she has.

I'd hoped to see Edward again in between his two races, but while heading back to the locker room to find him, I'd run into Carlisle who said Edward had a press conference, followed by a round of drug testing. Then a short nap. There wouldn't be any time for me to see him.

I'd tried to hide my disappointment but I think Carlisle had sensed it.

"Edward will be more available after his afternoon race," Carlisle had said. I'd turned back and went to find Alice and Jasper for lunch, feeling more like a third wheel than ever.

But finally, the afternoon races were over, with Edward easily qualifying for the next round in the 200 freestyle and I was back in the lounge, waiting uncomfortably for Edward to emerge from the locker room.

I was trying to feel more like I belonged here, but with all these muscular and intimidating men and women hanging around, it was difficult, if not impossible.

Just before I was about to give up, Edward walked in, looking so casual and cute and sexy, in his jeans and sweatshirt, bronze hair carelessly falling over his forehead.

He walked right up to me, like all he could see was me. "Are you ready to go?" he asked, grabbing and holding both of my hands with his own.

I nodded. "Aren't you tired? Shouldn't you go to bed?"

"Argh," he groaned, "you should exactly like my father. Don't ever do that again."

"Okay," I giggled a bit helplessly. What was it about this man that reduced me to a drooling mess? Oh that's right, all of him. All of his perfect, muscled, disgustingly charming self.

"I was thinking we could just take a walk around the Olympic green. I haven't been able to see much so far. Is that okay with you?" His green eyes were so intensely focused on me that I was surprised that my tongue hadn't tied into a million knots.

"That sounds great," I smiled up at him.

"Let's go then," Edward said, pulling me a little with the grip he still had on one of my hand's.

I beamed up at him and figured that we were fooling just about no one, but I just couldn't dredge up the feelings to care.

Edward opened the door into a corridor, and proceeded to take me a completely different way than I was expecting. In fact, these hallways were tiny, dark and totally empty. Finally I had to ask.

"Where are you taking me?"

Edward stopped and pulled me to him. "I want to be alone with you," he murmured, despite that there was no one around to overhear.

"We are alone," I pointed out.

Edward smiled, the sheer magnitude of it lighting up the corridor. "You are so smart, Bella. One of the many things I like about you."

"Really?" I whispered as he pulled me even closer.

"Oh, really," he smirked a little. "Now will you stop talking so I can finally kiss you."

My jaw dropped and he laughed. "Did you really think I didn't want to?"

"Well, no, um, I'm not exactly sure."

I leaned in close, and I felt a little dizzy at how good he smelled—not like chlorine at all.

"Bella, I wanted to throttle Rob for interrupting us earlier. But, I figure now it's better because I want us to be alone when it finally happens."

"Okay," I squeaked, letting him pull me even closer to him, until my hands were resting on his chest and I had to crane my neck back a little to get a good look at his incredible face.

"Bella, you are too cute . . ." he said, and he leaned in toward me, and this time there was nobody and nothing to interrupt us. Thank God.

His lips were soft and gentle on mine, and his hands cradled me like I was the most precious possession he could ever hope to own.

Then just as suddenly as his lips had descended, I found my back to the wall and while he was still gentle, the kiss was a lot more insistent. My brain melted and I kissed him back even harder.

"Bella," he groaned when we finally ended the kiss, gasping for breath. "You are too sweet."

"You're not half bad yourself," I smiled into his chest as he held me close to him.

* * *

oh whoops. was that a cliffie? at least it wasn't too bad of one. . .can't wait to see what Tami comes up with next chapter!


	9. Chapter 9

AN: I'm posting this chapter of Going for the Gold for Tami, who's been really sick lately. She apologizes but, trust me, you should all forgive her. She's been so sick she had to go to the hospital! So yeah. . .forgiveness all around, plus this is an AWESOME chapter!

* * *

EPOV

Two in the morning. When would this sleeplessness end? I sat up, punched my pillow a few times, then layed back down, completely frustrated. I reached for my phone, searched through the contacts, then hesitated. What was I doing? I was not going to continue to wake up Bella night after night. She needed her sleep too. Obviously I had to do something about this. But what? I briefly wondered if I should just invite her over here. Maybe having her next to me, in my arms, would rest my mind enough to fall asleep. I disregarded that quickly. I was pretty sure that if Bella and I were to share the same bed, then we'd be doing a lot more than sleeping.

_Ahh, but we'd be able to sleep after_, my overactive mind assured me. I shook my head to clear thoughts of Bella's incredible body flush against mine. _Not helping. _I decided to try counting strokes--my own version of counting sheep. Maybe if I could imagine my swim tomorrow, stroke after stroke, it would relax me enough to fall asleep, or at least block out the thoughts of those delicious lips underneath mine. I sighed in frustration and turned over on my stomach, burying my head in my pillow.

* * *

I tugged and pulled, but nothing happened. Damn swimsuit. It was so tight that it was almost impossible to pull on, even using the special method that Alice had tried to explain to me. Something about a pantyhose method where I'd roll up one leg, slip my foot into it, then slowly pull it up to my thighs, then repeat with the other side, finally pulling the whole thing up altogether. Somehow, it had never worked for me. I'd given up after one try, and resorted to the old method where I'd tug and pull and curse in frustration as I slowly succeeded in pulling the swimsuit up my body, inch by painstaking inch.

Today I was wearing the highly unflattering full body suit. Not one who was usually vain, it had never bothered me before, but now Bella was going to be seeing me in this. At least it would help me win. I gave a hard tug and succeeded in pulling the suit up to my hips and let out a big breath. The hard part was over. Deciding to get this over with quickly, I gave a vicious tug to pull the suit up the rest of my body, and heard a suspicious ripping noise. I closed my eyes in frustration. What a lovely day this was turning out to be already, and it was only just beginning. I made a mental note to find some time with Bella after the race and mandatory interviews. I knew she'd make everything better.

I jerked the straps over my arms onto my shoulders and stalked out of the dressing room. I needed to find Alice. I walked straight to the room reserved for the team stylists and barged in. She was standing off to the side, scribbling in a little notebook. I walked over and stood directly in front of her, clearing my throat when she didn't look up from whatever was so important to her.

She jerked her head up, slamming the notebook shut and hiding it behind her back. I looked at her suspiciously. Just what was in that thing?

"Uh . . . Edward. What brings you here? Don't you have a race to get to?" she questioned me, eyebrows raised in confusion.

"I would be there if it wasn't for this swimsuit. I ripped it trying to get the stupid thing on," I griped.

She gasped. "Didn't you put it on right? Nevermind, come with me." Grabbing my arm, she tugged me out the door. Propelling me through the hallways, she pulled me along until we reached a small room off to the side. Opening the door, she gave me a slight shove and I walked in, somewhat amazed at the strength of such a tiny woman, though I shouldn't have been.

A few weeks ago, Alice had barged into my life on a campaign to be the sole designer of my swimming attire. I'd been impressed with her tenaciousness immediately, but what had really clinched the deal was that she had the ability to banter with me at ease and calmly explain the reason for her designs despite my skepticism. My dad had hired her during our first meeting after he'd observed her no nonsense attitude when I'd tried to shoot down her idea of creating a suit made up of a new material that was still being developed. Carlisle explained that we needed someone with innovative ideas if we were going to finish the Olympics with six gold medals in hand and it wouldn't hurt if we had someone working for us that wasn't scared to speak her mind to me. Furious at first, I'd refused to talk to her, but gradually she'd won me over. She had a way about her of drawing people out and making them like her.

I turned to face her as she shut the door, muttering something about swimmers not treating their perfectly made suits right. I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for her to finish ranting and look at me. Finally, she looked up and gasped.

"So, why did you choose to keep the suit on? I do have to sew it up you know?" she questioned, pulling a spool of thread and a needle out of her bag. She walked up to me and measured the damage I'd managed to do.

"I was not going to attempt to get that thing on again. Then I'd really be late for my race, now will you just fix it already?" I huffed.

"Okay, hold still," she ordered. She was still looking at me with an annoyed look on her face. Suddenly, to my confusion, it began to change. Her eyes got a strange light in them and she began to smile mischievously. I gulped. She was obviously up to something, and I was effectively trapped.

"So," she began as she threaded her needle, "what exactly is going on between you and Bella?"

"Um," I answered, not exactly sure what to say to her. She had a look on her face that resembled an army interrogator sitting down with a terrorist. Her chin was set pugnaciously, lips pursed and eyes determined. I gulped again. And not only did she have her infamous tenacity, she also held a sharp object in her hand.

"Oh, don't bother lying," she instructed, "I know you took her on a date and also asked her to be your own special reporter. Something is going on between you two and I want to know what it is."

"Well," I hedged, not exactly sure what to say, "I did ask Bella to be the reporter who follows me around--because I trust her."

"It's more than trust, and we both know it. Now you can hold still and tell me exactly what you think of Bella while I sew up your suit," she commanded me in her drill sergeant voice.

"To be honest, Bella kind of blindsided me. I wasn't expecting her in my life--not now, at this moment." To my surprise, I found myself telling Alice exactly what my feelings were. I glanced at her face in shock.

She smirked. "Don't be surprised. Everyone eventually succumbs to my persuasive powers."

"Um, okay," I stammered, but to my astonishment, I kept on talking, "well, it's not exactly a time in my life that I can afford distractions. Now I'm not sleeping, I can't concentrate on swimming, can hardly close my eyes without seeing Bella's face in my mind. The funny thing is, I don't care. I want her to distract me, to be near me. It's like she has totally changed my perspective on life in a matter of days, and I wouldn't have it any other way." I realized quite suddenly that I was sounding extremely mushy and clamped my mouth shut abruptly, avoiding her gaze.

"I knew it!" Alice squealed loudly and I jumped in reaction. The needle she was using jabbed me sharply in the ribs and I jumped again.

"Will you please be careful with that thing?" I hissed, hoping that she hadn't managed to draw blood.

"Oh, sorry," she replied, shamefaced. "Sometimes I get a bit too excited." She continued her work. Since I was so tall, she didn't have to look down at her sewing, but rather straight on, right at the gap in the seam on my ribcage. I could see her face fully, and her smug look made me realize something.

"Wait! Did you just say that you knew it? Knew what?" I asked determinedly. It was my turn to be the interrogator and it was time I got some answers.

She glanced up at my face in shock, set her mouth in a straight line, then looked down again.

"Alice, I'm warning you. You'd better tell me what you've been up to," I replied as menacingly as I could.

"N-nothing. I haven't done anything," she replied defensively. I continued to stare at her until she continued, "well, almost nothing. I had planned to have her interview you all along. I knew that you'd be perfect for each other, but there was no way I would get Bella to meet you unless it was for professional reasons," she replied defensively.

"The airplane," I prodded, "was that planned?"

"No! I had nothing to do with that--although it worked out even better than anything I _could_ have planned," she said, once again her impish smile in place.

"Well, you can just leave things be now. I think I've got it all under control, so no more matchmaking for you," I directed. Immediately her lips turned down into a pout and she looked up at me with wide, puppy dog eyes.

Before I could go with my natural reaction of trying to cheer her up and giving in, I heard a small shuffling sound at the door and glanced up. My heart plummeted at what I saw. Standing next to the door were my parents, but what made me nervous was the looks on their faces. My mom had an ecstatic look on her face. A look that told me she was already dreaming of weddings and future grandchildren. I shivered.

The look that worried me, though, was not coming from her, but my dad. He was tense, standing still and stiff, and his mouth was drawn up in a frown. He didn't quite look angry, but there was something about the thoughtful look in his eye that made me nervous. After a long moment of everyone staring, he cleared his throat and stepped forward.

"Edward, you need to get to that race. This is no time for chit chatting." His voice was harsh, rougher than I was used to.

"Sorry, my suit ripped," I muttered.

"It's fixed now, so let's go." He shot me a look that clearly said that we'd be having a conversation about this later, and stalked out of the room. My mom sent me one last, hopeful smile, then turned and followed him.

"Thanks, Alice. Maybe next time you can design me a suit that isn't impossible to get on," I told her. It took her awhile to respond. She was staring after my parents with a thoughtful look on her face.

"Oh, no problem," she replied absentmindedly. I wondered if she was thinking about fixing my suit or designing a new one, but decided not to press the issue, waved and hurried to the main event pool.

* * *

I swam my laps in the cool down pool waiting for the moment that my dad would pounce. I knew he'd been itching to have a talk with me ever since he'd walked in on my conversation with Alice. I was ready for it. There was no way that he was going to take Bella away from me, no matter what he said or tried. That was one thing I knew for sure.

The 200 freestyle semis had gone relatively well. I was in an excellent position for the finals the next day, and I should have been happy, but something was missing. Bella hadn't been at the meet that day. I'd known she wasn't going to be there because she was obligated to go to her friends' volleyball game, but I'd still missed her. It had been disappointing to finish the race, look at the stands, and not be able to pinpoint her beautiful face cheering me on. I considered asking her to come to every single one of my races from then on. I needed her there, encouraging me to go faster than ever, making me want to win it all for her.

Unfortunately, I couldn't ask that of her. She had her friends competitions'--other people that would want to see her at their events, and I couldn't take that away from them or do that to her. I didn't want her to feel conflicted in any way. But maybe I could get down on my knees and beg her to be at every one of my finals, at the very least. I didn't think I could bear a medal race without her in the stands. That sounded to desperate though. Perhaps if I just calmly and rationally asked her to be there, she would. And if she had to choose between one of my finals and one of her friend's event, then I'd resort to begging her to pick me.

I hit the wall and glanced up to see the unmistakable shadowy figure of my father through the goggles. I tore my goggles off and looked up at his imposing form.

"Get dressed, we need to talk," he commanded me. I lifted myself out of the pool, and set my shoulders.

"Why don't we talk right here," I demanded.

"I'm sure that you will want to keep this conversation private," he insisted, and not wanting to make him any angrier than he might be, I decided to concede. I hurried to the showers and quickly cleaned and dressed. When I walked out of the locker room, he was standing outside waiting for me, arms folded across his chest, a grim look on his face.

"This way," he said, leading me to one of the smaller conference rooms in the water cube. I followed him in and he shut the door behind me, turned and stared at me once again crossing his arms over his chest.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" he demanded after I defiantly refused to ask what was going on.

"I don't think I know what you mean. Winning races, maybe?" I answered insolently, desperately wanting him to lose his famous cool and react normally for once.

"You know exactly what I mean, Edward. Distraction. You can't afford one right now and that is exactly what Miss Bella Swan is to you."

"I'm not giving her up," I retorted, then realized I sounded like a toddler playing with my favorite toy. I quickly changed tactics. "Dad, you know we can trust her to write a good article. She's smart, knows what she's doing and keeps her word. Really, I think she's the best reporter we could get, and we're lucky enough that she's willing to work with us," I reminded him. Although she wasn't a famous reporter, and this would probably help her career, I certainly felt lucky that she'd agreed to do an article on me.

"I don't know about that, but I recognize that you aren't going to agree to any other reporter, so we'll stick with her. I get that. It's the other thing I'm worried about," he explained.

"Um, what?" I asked, thrown off guard. I'd been expecting a fight and it didn't look like that was going to happen. I sighed in relief. Maybe this was about something else altogether.

"I'm talking about distraction again, Edward. That and conserving energy." He looked at me meaningfully.

"Well, I get the distraction thing, but honestly she makes me want to swim better, so you shouldn't be complaining. Besides, you had mom and me when you were at your last Olympics and you managed fine, so I don't see the big deal," I answered defensively.

"I get that, Edward. I understand where you are coming from with Bella, believe me I do, but there are other things to consider. You really need to make sure not to physically overexert yourself. Not with the kind of races that you have coming up," he said, still in the same, steady tone that he always used, giving me that measuring look.

Suddenly his meaning hit me, and a flush came over my skin. "Oh. That," I said looking down. I could hardly believe that I was having this conversation with my father.

"Yes, that. You need to keep it in your pants until after the Olympics are over for you, Edward. You don't want to be risking a medal to assuage your hormones," he explained. "Besides, if Bella is who you want, it can wait."

I considered this for a moment. He was right, of course. I did need to conserve energy, because I was here to win medals after all. As much as it killed me I had to admit that getting more physical with Bella would have to wait, not forever, but until after the last swim. I quelled the huge wave of disappointment I felt at that thought and graciously nodded at my dad, agreeing with him. I'd won the big fight, after all. I still was going to be able to see Bella every moment I could for the rest of the Olympics, and if I had it my way, after, so this was not something I was going to fight my dad on.

"Good, I'm glad we're in agreement," my dad answered, seeing my reluctant acceptance. "Now, you'd better get back to your room for some rest. You have a final tomorrow, so no distractions tonight." He turned around left the room quickly. Somehow I sensed that he'd hated that conversation almost as much as I did. Having my dad lecture me about my sex life made me feel like a fumbling teenager again and I was eager to rid the memories from my mind.

I followed my dad from the room and was surprised to find my mom waiting outside. "Mom!" I exclaimed in shock. "What are you doing here?"

"I just wanted to talk to you about something," she answered quietly.

"What?" Now I was really curious. A lecture from each of my parents in the same day. Joy.

"Oh, it's nothing serious. I just wanted to tell you that your dad means well, but he sometimes gets distracted by what is best for you and what he thinks will make you the happiest," she said. Before I could assure her that another argument had not taken place, she continued. "So don't let any of his misgivings about Bella get you down. She's a great young woman and I'm sure she'll write a wonderful article," she said slyly. I sensed that there was a deeper meaning behind her words--such as, _she'll write a wonderful article and make you the happiest you've ever been_, but she didn't say it. "Now go and get some rest and I'll see you tomorrow." She pulled me in for a hug and then let go, turning to walk off, but hesitated and turned around again. "Oh, I overheard Alice say that Bella should be back to her hotel from the volleyball game by now. If you have anything to discuss about the article, perhaps now would be the time to do it." She smiled, waved and walked quickly away.

"Uh, bye mom," I called after her. Not even pausing to reflect on either conversation with my parents, I pulled my phone out immediately. The only thought in my head was that I needed to be with Bella. I dialed her number and waited impatiently for her to pick up as I exited the water cube and walked in the direction of her hotel.

"Hello?" she answered quietly. _Finally._

"Bella? What are you up to? How did the volleyball game go?" I asked eagerly, overjoyed at hearing her voice again.

"Oh, the game was great. They won. I heard your swim went well. Good job," she answered happily. I closed my eyes at the overwhelming feeling of happiness at the sound of her voice.

"So, I was wondering if you are doing anything right now," I questioned eagerly.

"Nope, I was thinking of getting ready for bed. Nothing too exciting really."

"Well, would you like to come on a walk with me?" I was desperately hoping that she would come. I silently urged her to answer yes.

"Sure. Where should I meet you?" She sounded just as eager to be with me as I was with her and I couldn't help but smile.

"Actually, I'm almost to your hotel right now. Why don't you meet me outside?"

"Okay, I'll be right down." The phone clicked in my ear and I sped up my pace to a slow jog, eager to be waiting for her when she exited the building. Just as the front doors came into view, I saw her walk out. I couldn't help myself, I hurried toward her and when she was within arms length, I reached out and grabbed her to me in a big hug. Relief that she was finally with me again overcame me, and I pulled her tighter. Finally, I pulled away so I could look at her beautiful face, leaned down and kissed her delicious lips. It was like coming home and I smiled when a sigh escaped from her.

I released her and looked into her face. Her eyes were dreamy and she smiled back at me. "That was quite the greeting." She pulled back and began nervously looking around. "I hope no one saw though. I don't want any negative publicity for you." She bit her lip nervously and all I could think about was that I was the one that should be biting that lip.

"Don't worry about it," I said, eventually pulling my mind away from her mouth. "I don't care if anyone sees us. Maybe then I'd have to stop worrying about other men looking at you." I couldn't believe how jealous I had become at the simple thought of another man looking at her. She was mine.

She blushed and changed the subject quickly. "Where do you want to walk?"

"There is a little park near the athlete's village. I thought it might be nice to walk through," I answered. I threaded our fingers together, and pulled her in the right direction so she'd begin walking.

"So, how was your day?" she asked after a long, comfortable silence in which I was able to savor her nearness.

"It was...interesting. I ripped my suit and Alice had to fix it. She's quite determined isn't she?"

Bella gasped. "What? What did she say to you?" She stopped walking suddenly and I turned to look at her. She had a worried look on her face that I wasn't sure how to interpret.

"Actually she didn't tell me anything, though I'm curious as to what she could tell me," I baited. When no answer was forthcoming, I sighed and gave a gentle tug on her hand to get her walking again. "It's actually more of what I told Alice. That woman can get information out of anybody, can't she?" She giggled, and I smiled, thrilled at the sound.

"What did you tell her?" she finally asked when I didn't say anything else.

"Hmmm, not now. Maybe I'll tell you someday," I answered. At her pout, I couldn't help but lean down and give her one more kiss. Before I could be persuaded, I finished detailing out my day. The swim, the cool down, the dreariness that was my day without her in it, but I left out the conversation with both of my parents. "I missed you," I concluded. "So, I have a request. Can you please make sure to be at all my finals? I understand that you have friends and that their events might be scheduled at the same time as mine, but it really would mean a lot to me if you could make it to the finals."

"Of course, Edward," she assured me. "And if it makes you feel better, I missed you too." I pulled her closer to me, elated that she felt the same way.

We continued to walk and chat about our days. I asked her about her friend Rosalie's match, and she filled me in on the details. It was still unbelievable to me how comfortable and relaxed I could be around her. She made me forget about the stressful schedule I was competing in, the worries of making my father proud. It was just me and her together, in our own little world.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: Thanks everyone for being supportive while I was writing this. Thanks also to my sissy who is so the Emmett to my Bella.

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BPOV

Emmett and I sat in the sun, watching Rosalie and Tanya warm up for their match. Though I was with one of my best friends, and I was incredibly lucky to be able to catch one of the greatest beach volleyball duos in action, all I wanted was to be back at the Water Cube, watching Edward stroke cleanly through the pool, annihilating his competition.

This had been planned from almost the moment I'd learned I was going to Beijing, and though I couldn't deny I _was _excited to see Rose and Tanya in action, all I'd thought of this morning as I got ready was of how I could get out of it so I could see Edward.

"You're distracted," Emmett told me, shading his eyes and looking at me intently.

"Yeah, I guess. Sorry. A lot on my mind." I prayed he wouldn't ask what it specifically was, but this _was _Emmett. I really didn't want to tell him that I was thinking about Edward and the incredible kiss we'd shared.

"About the story?" Emmett asked a little slyly. Damn it, he'd talked to Alice. Not that I'd really expected her to keep her trap closed.

"Uh. . .yeah. It's a lot of responsibility to make it right."

"Why do you care if it's right as long as you get your own byline and get pimped out to a bunch of other papers?"

Herein laid the problem. I was bound and determined to write an article that wouldn't only help me career-wise, but more than that, would finally show the world the Edward Cullen that I'd been privileged to know.

"It would be wrong to misrepresent him. That's what everyone else wants to do," I told Emmett more than a little self-righteously.

"Okay, but I have to say I still don't get it," Emmett said.

"It's about professional ethics," I snarked. "You wouldn't get that."

"Hey," he grumbled good naturedly, "I do too. What I'm really wondering is if your need to 'get it right,' has more to do with Edward Cullen the man than Edward Cullen the press enigma."

I pursed my lips and looked out toward the volleyball pit. "You didn't by any chance talk to Alice, did you?"

"Uh, no, of course not," Emmett said in a terribly fake innocent voice.

I sighed.

"Just tell me, Em."

"Oh look, the match is about to start," Emmett clapped excitedly then proceeded to cat call loudly into my ear.

"Your excitement could use a little. . .modification," I told him.

"What?" he asked with surprise. "I was being enthusiastic. You want to tell me that you don't act the same way around Cullen?"

"Well, no. Not exactly." It was both a lie and the truth. I was always thrilled to see him—maybe almost as thrilled as Em and Rose always were to see each other—and yet, his races made me break into a cold sweat of nerves and angry butterflies.

"You don't?" Emmett acted surprised and I supposed I wasn't doing a very good job of convincing him that I wasn't emotionally attached to Edward, because, _who was I kidding_, I definitely was.

"Uh, well, of course not. I'm always so nervous for him. Aren't you nervous about Rosalie?" I asked, pointing towards her lithe blonde form stretching on the sand.

"I was at first, I suppose. I never wanted her to lose because I didn't want her to be sad. But. . ." Emmett trailed, off sticking one hand into his track jacket and toying with something in it.

"But what?" I asked with a definite note of curiosity in my voice.

"Well, of course she lost sometimes. And yeah, she was sad, but it was more than sad. She was frustrated. Angry. It pushed her to go harder. So, no, of course I don't want to see her lose today, but if she did, I'd be there for her, and I'd be there to help her push herself harder." Emmett looked down a bit self-consciously, aware he'd probably said more than he'd intended, but I was touched by his fierce love for Rose. That was exactly what I wanted . . . _someday_.

"Emmett, that's so sweet," I told him and I threw one arm around his bulky upper body and pulled him close to me for a quick hug. His eyes met mine and I was totally floored by the tears I saw lingering there.

Quickly, he wiped his eyes and turned bright, _bright _red. "Sorry," he mumbled, "got a little carried away."

I grabbed his arm and forced him to meet my intent gaze. "Don't _ever _be sorry for how you feel about Rosalie."

"I'm not. I just you know. . .have a reputation to live up to," he joked.

"What? Being a total mean hard ass pumped full of testosterone?" I asked him, rolling my eyes. Anyone who spent more than five minutes with Emmett knew he belied his sport by being the biggest teddy bear in the world.

"Enough about me," Emmett insisted. "I want to talk about you and Cullen."

"Don't you want to watch the game?" I asked a bit desperately.

"Are you kidding? Beach volleyball?"

"But Rosalie's playing!" I exclaimed a bit louder than I needed to. I was more a little afraid of what Emmett, being the big protective older brother type, would say about Edward and I. Or what he would do to Edward. While Edward did certainly have his share of muscles, Emmett was a weightlifter. In the Olympics.

"Come on. You don't like beach volleyball either."

"No," I said self righteously, "but Rose is a good friend and she's _your _girlfriend."

"You must really not want to tell me about Cullen," Emmett told me jovially. "I wonder why not?"

"Because it's none of your business," I snapped. "_None_."

Emmett's face took on a slightly contemplative look, which worried me all by itself, to say nothing of its implications. Emmett thinking was pure fail.

"Clearly there's something going on if there's something for you to not tell me."

"Don't be ridiculous. Nothing is going on." There were no more Hail Marys left in me. Emmett was like a dog with a bone; he was _never _going to give up. Alice must have told him something. Damn it.

"You know it's going to be all over Olympic Village at this rate. Hell, it already is," Emmett said, way too nonchalantly.

"It's what?" I squeaked, my face draining of all blood, then rapidly refilling until I was beet red.

"All over. Everyone's talking about it. I just didn't know who the reporter was, though, until Alice told me you were hanging around Cullen."

"I am not _hanging around Cullen_," I spluttered.

"Sure seems like you are," Emmett told me, an obnoxious self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"I am shadowing him in a purely professional capacity," I told him haughtily. So what if us making out in a dark hallway in the Water Cube was clearly not professional? I was _not _going to tell Emmett about that particular occurrence, though I'd been reliving it almost nonstop since.

"Yeah, like you'd be real stubborn about not telling me you were doing a simple job. There's more to it than that, don't bullshit me. Besides, why are you doing the job of a big reporter, like someone from _USA Today_ or the _Times_?"

"Edward wanted a more. . .personal. . .touch."

Emmett guffawed for longer than was entirely necessary, in my opinion. "Yeah, I bet he did. And are you giving it to him?"

I huffed, folding my arms across my chest. "You are being absurd."

"No, I'm being stubborn. Difference."

"I'm not going to tell you."

"You know you want to," Emmett told me in an imbecilic sing-song voice.

"You are like the _Star Wars _blind date from hell. It's nearly impossible to lose you."

"What?" Emmett said innocently. "That was a _great_ set-up."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever."

"Fine. I'll tell you a secret, and you tell me about Cullen."

"Would you stop calling him that? His name is Edward."

"Stupid pussy name," I heard Emmett mutter.

"Better than Emmett," I challenged.

"At least you could call him Eddie or something."

"He only likes Edward."

"Which just says it all."

"STOP," I whacked him on the arm. "Now, tell me your secret."

"Promise me you'll drop the 411 on Cullen."

"_Edward_," I ground my teeth. "And _yes, for god's sake._"

"Okay." Emmett reached into the same pocket he'd been obsessively toying with since we arrived, and he pulled out a small black velvet box.

Popping it open, he rested it on his palm so I could see inside.

It was a shiny dark silver ring, probably platinum, set with a _huge _diamond solitaire that flashed in the Beijing sun.

"_Oh my god_," I breathed out. "That's absolutely stunning, Emmett. Rose is going to die."

"Well, I hope not," he laughed.

I shot him a teasing glare. "You _know _what I meant, silly."

"Yeah. You really think she'll like it?"

"Uh yeah. For sure."

"Do . . ." Emmett hesitated. . ."do you think she'll say yes?"

That ridiculousness almost caused me to roll my eyes for the umpteenth time so far this morning. "Are you kidding me? YES."

"Good," Emmett said with a smile, "I thought so."

I punched him in the arm. "You are insufferable."

"You know it, baby," he smirked. "Now tell me about Cullen."

"For the last time. . .it's _Edward._"

"Okay fine. _Edward_," Emmett exaggerated, imitating my tone of voice.

"We're. . ." I faltered, "we're. . .actually, I have no idea what we are." I frowned with the sudden doubt entering my mind.

"Bells," Emmett said a bit too kindly, his arm looping around my thin shoulders.

"No, seriously. He's an awesome guy. Handsome and charming and intelligent and _amazing_."

"Good, he better be nothing less. Cause you deserve the best."

"Enough with the protective older brother act," I told him firmly. "I'm fine. We're fine. And even if it ends after Beijing, I'll have memories to last a lifetime."

"Is that what you think is going to happen?"

_And there was the question I'd been dreading. _I'd been lucky Alice hadn't asked it—but I'd known it was only a matter of time before someone asked.

I was silent. Emmett waited for me to say something, clearly not accepting my non-answer as a real answer.

"I don't know," I finally said quietly. "I don't think he's like that, but I have no idea how it would work in the real world. This is like. . .the pretend world, you know?"

"I know," Emmett nodded. "I felt that way when I met Rosalie in Athens, four years ago. But don't give up just because you don't know. If you want him, you should really give it a shot."

"Oh believe me, I'm going to want him," I joked lamely. It was Edward Cullen. _Who wouldn't?_

"You think he's not going to want you?" Emmett asked in disbelief.

"Well, no, not exactly. But he's under a great deal of pressure and stress here, and he feels comfortable around me—like he can talk to me. When all this is gone, he may not feel the same way."

"He will," Emmett said a lot more confidently than I felt. "You shouldn't doubt him; he seems nice enough despite being named Edward."

"_Emmett_," I groaned. "It's just a name."

"And I suppose you happen to like it."

"Of course I do."

"Figures."

Rosalie chose that instant to glance over at us, and we smiled and waved and Emmett whistled, all to prove that we were indeed paying attention.

"Does she do that often?" I fake-whispered to Emmett.

"Too often," Emmett teased. "So tell me more. Has he kissed you yet?"

I blushed. "Uh . . .yes."

"Good. He needs to prove himself with that ridiculous name."

"Really. Are you serious?"

"Dead serious. If I had a pussy name like Edward, I'd be kissing girls left and right."

"And I'm sure Rose would love that," I deadpanned right back.

"Are you kidding? I could never have gotten Rose to date me with a name like Edward."

"You're being utterly ridiculous. Rosie would love you if your name was Ludwig."

"Probably," Emmett preened a little. "I'm awfully lovable."

"You," I told him pointedly, "are ridiculous. So when are you going to ask her?"

"After she wins her gold medal," Emmett beamed proudly.

I raised my eyebrows in doubt. "I know Rosalie and Tanya are awfully good but how do you know they're going to win a gold medal?"

"Gut feeling," Emmett said, tapping his nonexistent gut.

"Okay," I said noncommittally. "Do you have a backup plan?"

"Don't need one."

"Emmett," I started, but he held up a hand to stop me.

"I don't want to hear it. You're going to ruin my mojo."

"Has your gut told you anything about Edward's race this morning?" I asked.

"No, but you should check your phone. I bet Alice texted you the results."

For once, Emmett was right. With bated breath, I opened her text, and there it was. Edward had won his semifinal in the 200 free, and had easily qualified for the final. Thank goodness. I let out the breath I was holding.

"Good news?" Emmett asked, peeking over my shoulder.

"Yes," I beamed. "He won his semi-final."

"I don't know why you doubt. The man is gold in the water, plus he has you. He can't lose."

"I don't have anything to do with it," I scoffed, trying not to think that Alice had said something similar.

"You totally do. And don't doubt yourself, I just told you!" Emmett playfully lectured.

"Okay," I smiled back. "I'll try."

"No, you do. This is something fantastic, Bella, don't screw it up because you convince yourself you're not worthy."

"I won't," I promised, though the little tiny voice in the back of my mind was telling me that Emmett was wrong. _How could I possibly measure up to someone as great as Edward?_

"You are so far gone, you know," Emmett teased.

"I am not," I told him firmly. "I like him, but that is all."

"Sure you do. Come on, just admit it. You're crazy about the guy. Even though his name's Edward," Emmett added with a lopsided smile.

I shook my head resolutely and returned my attention to the volleyball match, even though Rose and Tanya were winning this one by a landslide.

_Of course I wouldn't admit it to Emmett, but he was right. I was crazy about Edward._

_I imagined him standing in front of me in his tight suit, cocky, charming smile on his face, and a glint of mischievousness in his incredible green eyes._

_I went over to him and ran my hands up his chest, letting my fingers drift over each incredibly defined muscle, absorbing every inch of his body._

_Reaching up, I tucked my hands behind his neck and brought his lips down to meet mine. We kissed, and the world spun a little, as he pulled me closer to him._

_Finally, I broke our kiss and stepped back, letting my eyes roam his perfect body all over again. I could never get enough of him._

_I finally let my hands go to the top part of his suit, stretching the top over his shoulders and rolling it slightly downwards, exposing more skin as I went. I licked my lips and imagined rolling it down more, until I got to his two tattoos, one on either hip. The Olympic rings and the M, which stood for his alma mater, Michigan. And mine. . .it also stood for mine. . ._

"Bella!" Emmett screeched in my ear, jerking me out of my happy fantasy, right before I was about to brand him with my tongue.

"God, Emmett!" I nearly shouted back. "You scared the crap out of me!"

"Sorry, you were totally spacing. They won!" he told me excitedly, as he clapped way too hard, sending the noise reverberating into my ears.

"Oh they did?" I asked, a bit ashamed that I'd missed it, so absorbed I'd been in my vision of Edward.

"Oh yeah. Total wipeout."

I glanced at the scoreboard. "Wow, yeah, no kidding," I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.

All I could think was that I was profoundly glad it was over because that meant I could go back to the Village and maybe conspire a way to see Edward. I'd become an addict, needing to see him as much as I could before, in my mind, this all came crashing to a halt.

"You ready to go back to the Village?" Emmett asked slyly.

"Oh yeah, definitely," I said with none of my excitement faked.

"Oh, I bet you are. I just _bet _you are," Emmett teased.


	11. Chapter 11

**AN: This chapter is Tami's. It's fabulous, really, though probably not at all what you're expecting. Get ready for the surprise POV of Going for the Gold!**

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Jacob POV

I glared at the swarm of reporters surrounding him. Him--not me. Something would have to be done about this. Sure, he'd just won a gold medal, but I'd won the silver and where were the reporters waiting along the sidelines to interview me? Didn't I deserve some recognition for my own accomplishments? I watched as he smiled in triumph over winning his first of many planned gold medals and seethed inside. That wasn't going to happen. Not if I had anything to say about it. Next time he was going to be the one waiting on the sidelines while I was surrounded by the press because I, Jacob Black, was going to win that gold, break Edward Cullen's dream in two, and have the fame and recognition I deserved.

--

Once again I was standing at the starting block, preparing to swim the final of the 200 freestyle. This time there would be a different outcome, I was sure of it. I glanced over at Cullen, his warm up hood pulled over his head as usual, his earphones in place, but something was different. Instead of looking straight ahead at the water, he was scanning the crowded stands as if looking for someone. I wondered if he was looking for that reporter that he was rumored to be sniffing after. Even better for me; his concentration would totally be broken. Suddenly I noticed his goggles lying forgotten on the floor about a foot and a half away from him. Perhaps this new distraction of his would prove to be his undoing.

I carefully looked around, making sure that no one would notice me, then began making my way down the edge of the pool, slowly inching my way forward to the prize--the prize that was going to give me that gold medal and take it all away from him. I glanced around yet again, making sure that my movements weren't being tracked. Of course every camera was trained on Cullen, the so-called star of these Olympics. For once I was grateful that they weren't following me and weren't going to record what I was about to do.

Finally I reached my destination. It seemed to take an eternity, when in reality it had taken me roughly a minute to walk the length of the pool to be at Cullen's side. I glanced around one more, nonchalantly as if I was checking out the massive crowd, determined that all attention was still on him, then stepped on the lone pair of goggles decorating the tiled floor. The noise of the spectators and announcers made it impossible to hear the crunch as the goggles cracked slightly, but I felt the shift under my feet as the plastic gave way. I fought my grin of triumph. This was one race that I was sure to be the winner of.

Just in case someone noticed my uncharacteristic approach toward the enemy, I decided a little peacemaking effort was in order. I took the final step and clapped him on the back. He jumped, startled and I smirked. If he hadn't been staring so longingly into the stands, he would have noticed my presence long ago. Good for me, bad for him. He whirled around and stared at me, dumbfounded that I would approach him, especially before a final. I fought my grin of triumph and held my hand out for him to shake.

"Good luck Cullen," I said in my most neutral tone, smiling inwardly at his confusion.

"Uh, good luck Black," he replied hesitantly before stepping away. As I walked back to my starting position two lanes down, I glanced back and was unsurprised to find him looking into the crowd yet again. Stupid lovesick fool. Maybe once I slaughtered him in this race, his little reporter would turn to me. I'd never seen her, but she had to be something if she could distract Cullen. Finally I allowed my grin of anticipation to materialize. Not only would I get Cullen's gold, I was going to get his girl too once she saw that he was nothing really, completely overrated as the best swimmer in history. That title was going to belong to me.

I waited for the race to start. _Five minutes to go_..I removed my sweats and ear phones..._three minutes to go_...I began completing my last minute stretches. The announcers were introducing the swimmers in each lane, the cameras panning in on each of us preparing to step up to the block. _One minute to go_..I stood on the block and pulled the goggles down over my eyes, pressing them in to make sure that no leaking occurred. I wanted to jump in triumph as I pictured Edward doing the same thing. Only his goggles wouldn't prevent leakage. Not with the tiny cracks I knew were spreading throughout the plastic as he exerted pressure on them.

_Fifteen seconds_..I leaned down and took my position.._Five, four, three, two, one_...the whistle blew and I completed my dive into the water. I surfaced and began my freestyle stroke. Four lengths of the pool and I'd finally have that gold medal in my hand. I felt a surge of contentedness race through my veins as I pictured what was happening to Cullen at that moment. He'd dived in the water, only to be met with a great rush of water streaming into his eyes. I was sure that would have slowed him up immediately. He'd probably attempt to swim blind, but not being able to see, he'd perhaps bump the lane line or even hit the wall when it came time to flip into a turn. His embarrassment would be complete. He probably wouldn't even medal. I swam harder as I realized that I needed to concentrate on the race, not his humiliating defeat.

I glanced over as I took a breath midway across the pool. Miraculously Cullen was swimming right along next to me, a few lanes away. No bumping along the lane line for him. I faltered a moment. He must not have even broken stride when he realized water was rushing in. How was he doing this blind? I tucked my head down and swam even harder. No way was I going to let a blind man beat me in a race that was mine for the taking. He'd surely flounder when it came time to turn and swim back down the length of the pool. All I had to do was keep my head in the game.

But it didn't happen. He turned right on schedule, right on time with me, and kept on swimming in a perfect line. I wondered how in the world he was doing it. He was steadily moving along through the water in a perfectly straight line. Perhaps the goggles hadn't broken after all. Nah--I'd felt the crunching under my feet. Those goggles were useless. He was just lucky in guessing where the wall was, but his luck couldn't hold. I waited in anticipation for the moment that he'd crash into the wall and increased my pace to keep up. We are so far ahead of the competition now that I could see straight to him swimming even though he was two lanes away. There were simply no swimmer or wake in the water to obstruct my vision. A perfect opportunity to see his downfall with my own eyes rather than a later on recording.

Two more lengths of the pool left. I was pulling ahead slightly at the turn, but somehow he yet again managed to turn with me and keep up. I increased my pace, sending me even farther ahead. Finally I was going to pull ahead and finish this race. But once again, he managed to catch up to me, wiping away my lead with what appeared to be very little effort on his part.

We reached the wall neck and neck and that's when it happened. He flipped--a perfect turn by any standard, and started kicking even faster. As I came out of my turn, I realized that he was miraculously pulling ahead of me. This wasn't happening. _Damn him! _ He was _not_ going to take this away from me. Not after how hard I'd worked for it. I increased my own speed as well, my body screamed in protest as I pushed it to its very limit. My aching arms cut through the water in a desperate attempt to catch up, but it was useless. He continued to pull ahead. A half a body length, a full one, and finally two full body lengths ahead of me--in just one length of the pool. I was livid--ready to boil over with rage when I finally reached the wall, farther behind him than any predictions had put me.

I stood up and ripped my goggles off my face, not even bothering to appear the gracious loser. I'd obviously failed to damage the goggles. But, I had. I looked over at a pissed Edward Cullen. He flung the goggles out of the pool and muttered to himself--words that I couldn't hear over the din, but obviously he was upset about something. So, he could even swim blind. The thought incensed me even more. There was no way that a regular human could beat me like that. He had to be drugging himself. That was the only explanation for what had just happened. Now I just had to figure out what type of drug he was using, and bring it to the authorities' attention. Then those medals would be stripped from him and be where they rightfully belonged--around my own neck.

I reached across the lane lines and gave him the brief compulsory handshake that seemed to be required of me, then heaved myself out of the pool and stalked toward the locker room. I pushed my coach and teammates out of the way and glanced briefly at the swim times displayed on the large LCD screen. It wasn't the full second that I'd finished behind Cullen that made me even more furious, it was the small _WR _displayed by his time. I fought a growl as I looked back to see him finally pulling himself out of the water as the swarms of reporters moved in. Once again I, the silver medalist, got absolutely no attention or recognition for my accomplishments.

I wondered which one of these reporters was the girl that was giving him his own personal, private interviews and watched to see if he paid any of them special attention. Nope, not one of them. But, before I turned around again, I noticed something. He was hardly listening to the reporters questioning him, but was gazing into the stands with a smile on his face. A smile I had never seen on him before--not the triumphant smile after a winning race, or even the polite smile that he wore during interview after interview, but a gloriously, gooey happy smile that stopped me in my tracks and gave me another plan. Edward Cullen was in love. Now, if I could just find out who she was, perhaps I could distract him somehow.

Maybe I'd spread vicious rumors about her, distracting him in the process as he tried to soothe her hurt feelings. Or I could spread rumors about both of them, perhaps destroying both their careers in the process. It had definite possibilities, but first I'd have to figure out just who she was, and how they'd met. It wouldn't be too hard with my network of people. I could just assign them to follow Cullen until the desired information was obtained. If that didn't work, maybe they'd at least figure out the drugs that he was taking. For the first time since losing the race, I smiled. I was going to stop Edward Cullen from winning all those gold medals one way or another.

**okay so definitely not what you were expecting, right?**

**but still awesome!!**


	12. Chapter 12

AN: Ok so not much E/B the last two chapters, but I think this one totally makes up for it. I'm really happy with how it turned out.

One thing before we get to swimming action. I wrote a one-shot for the Dirty Talking Edward contest (**link on my profile**), and it's called **PUTTING LESSONS**. Check it out and make sure to vote for me in the preliminary round! Voting is open until Midnight on October 31.

Have a happy and safe Halloween!

--

EPOV

No doubt about it, I _knew _what had happened to my goggles before the final 200 free swim. Of course, I could simply ask to see the security footage, and my inquiry alone would prompt a massive investigation—probably before they even knew what they were looking for.

I knew what to look for. A simple step, in the right place, at the right time, and I knew just who's foot it had been, too. But, I'd decided not to pursue it, mainly because it had been such a cheap shot and it would have taken so much more to derail me. I felt like a train with a full head of steam and a full belly of coal. A pair of busted goggles couldn't halt all momentum that four years of nonstop training—and Bella—had built behind me.

I tried not to look impatient as the medal ceremony moved slower than I ever remembered it could. I was really anxious for my cooldown and everything it would entail. I had a special surprise for Bella, and while I was a bit apprehensive at her reaction, I so wanted to give her this opportunity.

I didn't want her to learn from anyone else but me.

Finally, the national anthem drew to a close and I was forced to shake that _dog's _hand, but even better, he was forced to shake _mine_. I could almost feel the baring of his teeth as he did so, his hand sliding out of my grasp like he couldn't bear to touch me longer than he had to.

Well, the feeling was mutual.

I wanted to grind him into the ground, slowly and painfully. But instead I gave him a brief smile, all teeth, that never made it to my eyes. A camera-only smile.

Finally, after the interminable interviews with the press—none of whom was the one reporter I _wanted _to see—and, with microphones still being stuck into my face, and surrounded by way too eager fans, I finally reached the barrier that led to the cooldown pool.

Carlisle and Esme were waiting for me, the former with a stern pride, and the latter with tears in her eyes.

But they weren't who I was dying to see.

My eyes moved fast, searching the cool-down areas, looking for Bella. Had she not come? My heart fell to my feet. She'd _promised_.

Okay, well, if I was being honest with myself, she'd promised to be at every final of mine. She'd been in the stands—I'd seen her face with my very eyes. I wondered what had stopped her from coming down to see me after the race. I hoped that security hadn't stopped her at the door. If they had, someone was going to die. Metaphorically, of course.

I had to go find her. That was the only thought in my head—I had to make sure that she hadn't been turned away. I had to make sure that everything was alright between us. I couldn't bear the thought that she was unhappy or lost or. . .

I felt someone's hand tap on my shoulder in the middle of my panic, and I whipped my body around towards the entrance.

Bella was standing right there, and her smile was nearly breaking her face in two, it was so large.

"Edward," she said, as she moved closer towards me. Standing on her tippy toes, she rested the palm of one hand on my cheek, and slowly, inexorably, pulled my head towards hers.

Right before our lips touched, and the whole room disappeared, she whispered, "I'm so proud of you."

In that second, every moment of eye pain induced by my water-filled broken goggles, every moment of uncertainty, and every moment of burning muscles as I pulled ahead of Jacob Black, was worth it. The gold medal around my neck was certainly a nice prize for a swim like that, but Bella's reaction, with her eyes glistening with happy tears? That was priceless, and worth a thousand swims like the one I had just had.

The kiss was brief, but I knew from the look in Bella's eye that it was only a promise of things to come later. Inwardly, I rubbed my hands together with glee—she had no idea of what I'd planned for us, but her plans seemed to fold in together with my plans almost flawlessly.

Carlisle and Esme came over then, and the next fifteen minutes was spent in vague boredom, with everyone gushing over me and offering their over-enthusiastic congratulations. Finally, the well-wishers and sycophants began to dissipate and as they drifted away, Bella looked up at me questioningly with those dark brown eyes of hers.

She didn't even have to ask—I already knew what she wanted to know. It was as if in a matter of a few mere days, Bella had become so near and dear to me that all I had to do was look into her eyes to know exactly how she felt.

It was a strangely heady feeling, and I felt lost in it.

"What is it?" I asked her quietly, ducking my head down to her shoulder obstinately to hear her response better, but really so I could get a good whiff of her hair. Nothing in twenty four years had ever smelled as good as Bella's hair.

_And yeah, that totally makes me certifiable._

"Where is everyone going?" Bella's voice was quiet but held a hint of uneasiness.

No doubt she'd be more than a little uneasy soon, but before that moment came, I wanted to allay her fears about everyone leaving. She'd been around the ends of my races long enough to know that nobody ever just _left_. The room was nearly empty and we were never alone while we were together at the Water Cube. Okay, we were very rarely alone together _ever_.

That's why I'd made the deal with Carlisle. Bella and I needed space, alone, and there was something in particular I wanted to do with her; an opportunity that she needed if we were to ever have a future together.

"They'll be back," I reassured her, worried that she wasn't happy about spending time alone with me. Panic welled in the base of my stomach before Bella's bright smile dispelled it completely.

"Really?" A frown creased her brow and she looked doubtful, like she wanted them to all stay away. "Do they have to come back?"

I sighed. "Unfortunately. But we have a few hours before they do."

"What?" she teased, "Carlisle's going to leave you alone for five seconds?"

I felt the growl of need rising in my throat as the last person disappeared out of view. I had such a tenuous hold over my control at this moment that it was hard to believe I was Edward Cullen, famous for his self-control.

I had to kiss Bella and I _had _to kiss her now.

After what seemed like an eternity, the minor official on the US Swim Team finally ducked out of room we were in, which led right to the cooldown pool.

I didn't waste a second.

Grabbing Bella, I dragged her toward me, holding her against me, wishing I could somehow get under her skin and knowing that even that wouldn't be close enough.

As my hands ran up her back, and I kissed her with as much enthusiasm as I thought she could handle, I heard a low chuckle behind me.

_Damn it. I would know that voice anywhere._

Reluctantly moving my lips from Bella's, I turned around and looked right into the eyes of my biggest rival.

I felt Bella stiffen next to me, and I slung one arm around her and pulled her to me, trying to be as reassuring as I could, all the while flinging mental daggers in Jacob Black's direction.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, trying desperately to hold onto my temper. I wanted to take apart his brain and scrub away any images he had of me and Bella embracing. Those were _our _private moments—moments he would never be privileged enough to witness.

"I thought I'd stop by, and say hey—and meet your new squeeze." Jacob's gaze ran lazily and completely over Bella's body, not missing a single cell it seemed. I felt a shiver go through her and I realized that she hated him almost as much as I did.

"This is a US Swim Team room," I said carefully and calmly, despite wanting to break every bone in his body, "you need to leave."

Jacob ignored my request and leaned against one of the tiled walls. "You know, that was just sheer luck today. You shouldn't have won that race," he sneered, clearly still angry about the result.

I could ignore him. I could choose to say nothing about the broken goggles. Or I could gloat. I supposed I could also call security, but that seemed like a last-ditch option with no opportunity to torture Jacob.

"But I did," I said simply, with a smile that I knew wrenched him to the core.

His eyes focused on the gold medal still hanging around my neck. "That should have been _mine_," he continued ranting, obviously choosing to ignore reality and the facts of the situation.

"It isn't though. It's mine." The triumph rang out in my voice and Jacob's face contorted in anger.

"You're a _cheater_," Jacob growled.

"No," I told him with finality. "And now you need to go. Now."

To my relief, he shoved off the wall and turned to go. I pulled Bella a little closer, as if being in the same room with that _dog _could possibly contaminate her innocent flesh.

Unfortunately, he stopped in his tracks, his eyes swiveling back towards Bella and I.

"You know, one of these days I'm going to catch you."

I lost it. "No," I nearly yelled. "One day I'm going to catch _you_. And I swear if I ever see you near my goggles again, I will dismantle you."

Jacob threw his head back and laughed, the evilly vicious sound filling the spaces in the room until I wanted to cover my ears, and Bella's too.

But he was leaving, and when he did, Bella almost sagged against me.

"I don't like him," she said quietly and I let out the breath I was holding, chuckling at her vast understatement.

"Me either, sweetheart," I told her, pulling her close to me all over again. "Now where were we before we were so rudely interrupted." My lips descended towards hers, but at the very last moment she pulled away.

"Don't you need to cooldown?" she asked, glancing pointedly towards the pool behind us.

I congratulated myself at the brilliance of my plan. I hadn't even had to bring it up!

"Why yes I do," I grinned and I grabbed both of her hands with my own. "But first, I have a present for you."

"A present? For me?" Her voice was disbelieving and I wanted to shake her until she realized just how special she was.

"Yes." I drew her over to one of the tables, where I'd stashed the gift bag I'd clumsily assembled the night before when I'd had my brilliant idea.

"For you," I presented her with the bag a bit shyly.

Bella took it, and she shifted around the tissue paper until one hand emerged holding what I'd hidden in the bag.

Biting her lip, Bella lifted her head towards mine. "A swimsuit?" she exclaimed, looking just about as pleased as I thought she'd be.

"Yes," I said with the excitement in my voice barely contained. "You're going to do my cooldown swim with me!"

There was more lip biting—_gah she was so adorable_—and finally she spoke up. "Edward, I don't know if you remember me telling you, but I'm afraid of water. Of swimming. I can't go with you. I'm sorry."

I wanted to gather her into my arms and wipe away the tears that were beginning to shimmer at the corners of her eyes. She hated telling me no, I could tell. She hated the thought of disappointing me and I understood exactly how she felt. I'd rather walk over burning coals than ever let her down.

And though right now she probably thought I was either forgetful or an insensitive ass, later she'd thank me. I'd laid up half the night thinking of the right gift to give Bella—a gift that would somehow demonstrate to her how I felt.

Finally, at about 2 AM, I'd finally come up with a good idea. I wouldn't give her a tangible item. All those seemed too tawdry and cheap and replaceable when it came to my Bella. I wanted to give her something unique and different and original. That's when I'd decided I would give her an experience.

The gift may have seemed to her like a swimsuit, but in reality, it was something I couldn't wrap in tissue paper; I was going to take away her fear and give her back her freedom in the water.

"Bella," I said slowly, rubbing one of her small hands with my big thumb, "I know you're scared. I know you hate the water and that it would nearly kill you to get in, but I want you to. For me."

She swallowed hard and I knew I had her. "For you?" she asked and her voice was so quiet, I could barely hear it.

"Yes. Because if you don't come with me, I'm not going to cool down."

Her eyes opened wide and she opened her mouth like she was about to argue. I put one fingertip on her lips and shook my head.

"No arguing. It's up to you."

She grabbed my hand off her mouth and glared angrily. "You're being stupid. You _have _to cool down, or else your muscles won't be right for tomorrow."

"I know," I told her simply. She had to understand how important this was to me. How much I'd be willing to put on the line for her.

She sagged against the table, the suit limply hanging from her hand. "You can't do this to me," she said with fear and desolation warring in her voice. "You know I'd do anything to make sure you swam the way I know you can."

I nodded. "I promise that you can stay in the shallows at the end. I just want you to try. I'll be with you every bit of the way."

Turning to look at me, Bella's expression was so plaintive I had to remind myself again why I was doing this. Her long-term happiness was so much more important than her short-term feelings.

"You swear?"

"I swear," I whispered as she melted into my arms, her lips meeting mine for a desperate, hungry kiss that went on for a good few minutes, with her body moving against mine in the most incredibly arousing way. Finally I realized that she was using the kiss as a way to delay the inevitable, and I grudgingly broke away.

"None of that," I told her with a teasing voice. "You're distracting me from the task at hand."

"Which is what?" she smiled, rubbing her hand against my thigh. Even though I was wearing a warmup suit and the skintight swimsuit underneath it, the electricity of her touch shot through my body.

I groaned. "Getting you to the locker room to change."

She pouted, sticking out that gloriously plump lower lip of hers and I was nearly lost.

But of course I wasn't called the king of self-control for nothing.

I managed to usher her and myself to the locker rooms, separately, and while she changed into her swimsuit, I decided to change out of the uncomfortably restraining full bodysuit and into something a little more. . .comfortable for our swim.

Clearly Bella had not been expecting me to change, and when she exited the locker room, towel wrapped tightly around herself, her jaw nearly dropped.

It was hard not to preen and pose for her. I knew my body was nice—I'd been told so many times I just glossed right over it—and I knew that it was effective as a swimming weapon, but the look of feminine appreciation for it in Bella's eyes was a totally new experience. A really, _really _great experience.

In fact, I never wanted to have her look away. She seemed to be following the line of every muscle with her eyes, and I nearly asked her if she wanted me to turn around so she could catalogue those too.

"Uh," Bella finally managed to get out. "Is _that _what you're going to be swimming in?" She lifted a finger and pointed at my red, white and blue Speedo. I almost looked down at it, wondering if somehow it had gotten arranged wrong and . . .something. . .was showing. But no, everything felt right enough.

Then it hit me. She was not a swimmer. Regular guys wore board shorts a mile long and in a million years wouldn't dream of wearing something as skimpy as I was. Of course to me, it was totally normal. Just another day at the pool. But to Bella, it was obviously a big deal.

"Do you want me to take it off?" I asked her, only realizing after the words left my mouth that I probably should have added something about putting another type of swimsuit on, but she replied before I could correct my mistake.

"Oh, no no no. That's . . .fine," she smiled up at me.

"Are you ready to go then?" I asked her.

She shook her head vehemently. "Not at all, but I don't suppose I can change your mind."

"Nope," I replied cheerfully. "We're going swimming."

She groaned a bit over-dramatically and I couldn't help but laugh and be secretly glad inside. Maybe this would go well and she could get over her fear in only one session. Then we could go swimming together _all _the time. I liked this idea.

Unfortunately, Bella kept her towel wrapped tightly around her as we walked to the cooldown pool, and I could only see the tops of her shoulders, and below her knees.

I couldn't deny that the very male part of me that was eager to see _much _more of Bella had enjoyed this idea very much, and that part might have been the one who ended up picking out the particular swimsuit I'd given to Bella. And that _might _be why her towel was so firmly entrenched around her glorious curves.

Maybe I'd been a trifle. . .enthusiastic about the idea, and had picked something out she wasn't comfortable wearing. But hey, I was nearly naked—there didn't seem to be a good reason she shouldn't be either.

We reached the pool again, and Bella stared moodily into the water, clearly not wanting to do this. Hesitantly, she dipped one elegant little foot into the pool, and pulled it out just as quickly as she'd put it in. I found her actions strangely fascinating. I had never been scared of the water—in fact, the water was where I found the most freedom.

"You want to go into the shallows?" I asked her, reaching for her hand and weaving her fingers in with mine.

"Yes," she replied, her fingers suddenly working towards a death grip.

"Okay," I told her as nonchalantly as possible.

As we walked towards the shallows, I gestured with my other hand towards her towel.

"That's going to have to go," I teased, interested in her reaction.

She grabbed it even tighter.

"What's wrong? Does the suit not fit?"

"No, it fits . . .fine. It's just a bit skimpier than I'm used to." Her voice was low and quiet and she was looking at the ground.

"Is that okay?" I made sure my voice was nice and concerned but inwardly, the testosterone-laden frat boy inside of me was groaning in agony at the thought of not seeing Bella in the suit I'd picked out.

"No, it's fine," Bella said with sudden determination in her voice, and she whipped the towel off, clearly before she decided to change her mind.

Even though technically I was ready for the sight of Bella in the bikini, as I'd seen it on the hanger, really, _nothing _could have adequately prepared for the vision in front of me.

She was stunning. The bikini itself wasn't cheap or tawdry, but despite exposing a significant amount of Bella's flesh, she made it seem. . .classy.

The fabric was a navy blue with white polka dots, and the color made her pale skin glow under the lights of the pool. Every part of her was smooth and sweetly curved and I wanted to bury myself inside of her and stay forever.

Suddenly, I realized that changing had been a bad idea, because just seeing her in that suit was causing some. . .difficulties for me downstairs, and this suit left little to nothing to the imagination. Bella was going to look down and die of embarrassment—as was I.

Frantically I tried to think of anything, _anything at all, _that would help me reduce the noticeable bulge in my Speedo. Curling, Jacob, _Dancing with the Stars_. The thoughts flitted through my head, but nothing took hold and nothing helped.

Thank goodness Bella choose that moment to turn around and start walking towards the shallow end of the pool. One, because she might actually miss my attempt at busting out of my swimsuit, and two, because I got an amazing look at her ass, which was . . .knee-weakening.

I just prayed that she wouldn't turn back around anytime soon because the view was causing me even more difficulties. Really I just had to get into the water so that I could hide how incredibly turned on I was. If Bella was nervous about wearing the suit, she'd no doubt be even more nervous that I liked it as much as I did.

I walked up behind her, and carefully keeping my distance, I wrapped my arms around her shoulders.

"You ready to get in?" I asked softly, knowing she was facing her own demons to do this. I was in awe of her bravery. Swimming the fastest in the world day after day wasn't easy, but it was nothing compared to what she was attempting.

"Yes," she replied and she scooted down to the edge of the pool, dangling her feet and legs into the water. "Is this enough?" she asked coyly, glancing up at me.

Part of me wanted to tell her it was; that she could sit there, in that adorably sexy polka dot bikini, watching me while I swam my laps. That was the frat boy talking.

Nice boy was telling me that I had to suck it up and help her because it was not only the right thing to do, but because I wanted to help her get over her fear. That's what this was all about, after all.

So I shook my head, and inside, the frat boy was banging his head against the wall. Unfortunately, that was the only thing he'd be banging for awhile.

"Do you want me to help you?" I asked, slipping into the water before she notice that my Speedo was fitting a hell of a lot different in the last ten minutes.

"Yes," she said, her voice full of apprehension. I waded over to her and let frat boy take over momentarily as I slid my palms up her legs and gloried in the feeling of my fingers finally being on her flesh.

"Close your eyes," I whispered, and they fluttered shut, her head tilting back a little as I moved my hands higher, until they were resting against the smooth curved skin of her waist.

As gently as I could, as her skin shivered against mine, I lifted her into my arms and let us drift into the water a little. It lapped up against my hands that were still around her waist, and I felt her grip on my shoulders tighten and her head sink lower against me.

Bella was shaking and I paused before going deeper, taking the opportunity to move her floundering legs around my waist. No matter that my swimsuit was nearly bursting off of me at this point—having a wet, writhing, and nearly naked Bella wrapped around me was the best thing I'd ever felt. I wouldn't give it up even if I was being held at gun point. Blue balls seemed like a relatively minor thing to suffer compared to what I was being allowed to do.

Really, this was the most brilliant idea I'd ever had.

Of course, I had to make sure that Bella's legs and . . .crotchal area. . .were situated well above any kind of danger zone—both for her protection and for mine. I didn't want to embarrass myself or her and I didn't want to totally lose control and start humping her in the pool either.

"Are you okay?" I whispered in her ear, the strands of her long hair tickling my neck.

She nodded tightly, but I sensed that all was not well. I was having the time of my life, but she was scared shitless.

I had to do something before this ended—before Bella decided that I had pushed her into something she couldn't handle. Because that was something _I _couldn't handle.

"Bella, sweetheart," I murmured, softly, "open your eyes. Look at me."

Her eyes opened slowly, almost as if she would be afraid of what she'd see. The pupils were dilated with what I knew was fear. She was terrified. And I'd dragged her into this. I wanted to flog the frat boy for his inane stupidity.

I rearranged her slightly, so that both legs of hers were hooked around my waist and I was supporting her with one arm only, so I could trace the delicate skin of her cheek.

"Bella," I said again, "I want you to look at me. Look right into my eyes." She did and I felt her relax just slightly, until I felt like I wasn't totally taking advantage of her. I brushed her lips with mine and I wasn't surprised to feel her latch onto me and kiss me a lot harder back.

No doubt that she'd much rather be distracted by what was rapidly flaming out of control between us than focus on the water surrounding her.

I broke away momentarily and whispered hard, "I've got you, Bella, I'm not ever going to let you go." I didn't elaborate over whether that meant _now_, in the pool, or in my life. I didn't want to scare the hell out of her. Instead, I just kissed her back, as passionately as I could, letting my tongue drift against hers.

The kiss went on and on, was only broken by our gasps for air, and as Bella became more and more absorbed in me, I began to move us a little farther into the pool.

I was surprised at how little Bella reacted to the water level rising on her body, but honestly, we were both so lost in each other it was probably a wonder she could even remember we were in a pool.

Gently, carefully, I finally moved my head away from hers, and I watched her eyelids flutter open and her mouth drop.

"Edward," she said with awe in her voice, "we're in the _middle _of the pool."

"Yes," I breathed slowly, just waiting for her to totally lose it.

That's when it happened. She smiled so hard that I almost felt knocked backwards from the force of it. I _was _knocked backwards from her arms suddenly being thrown around my neck as she giggled fiercely and giddily.

"You did it," she gasped, "you helped me get here."

I chose not to mention that I was currently treading water while holding both of us and it would be easier if she moved as little as possible. After all, the gift I wanted to give her had come to pass. I couldn't exactly complain, could I?

"I did," I said to her and it was hard, _really really hard, _to keep the gloating edge out of my voice. I wanted to shout to the rooftops that I'd given my . . .my. . .Bella a gift that she'd remember forever.

"Thank you," she mumbled, burying her head into my neck.

"You're very welcome. Can I take you back, so I can finish my cooldown?" I asked, hoping that she wouldn't be offended. It really _wouldn't _be good if I waited any longer.

"Yes, please," she said softly, and wrapped her arms around me again, and I couldn't breathe or think as her lips were on mine again.

Frat boy told me to make the trip back to shore as slow as possible. I concurred, and the trip back was lazy, and full of long, slow kisses that I never wanted to end. I gently placed her back on the ledge, and she dangled her feet in the water, arms reaching for me again.

"Can't you stay," she begged, trying to twine her fingers around my arm.

I also felt the loss of her skin next to mine, but I knew I couldn't buckle. There was only so many ways I could stretch the rules until they broke, and not doing my cool down after a major race would be breaking them so much that I shuddered to think what Carlisle would say if he knew I was even contemplating it.

I shook my head. "No, but I'll be back in a few minutes. Will you be warm enough, do you think?"

"Yes. Now shoo!" Bella smiled reassuringly and I pushed off the side of the pool to begin my laps.

Fifteen minutes later, we were done, and walking towards the door, me wrapped in a towel, Bella dwarfed by my warmup jacket.

I was about to suggest some food when there was a definite ring coming from the bag Bella was carrying. She blushed and started digging for her phone. Glancing at the screen she quickly turned off the ringing and stuck it back in her bag without answering it.

"Did you need to take that?" I asked worriedly. I didn't want her to ignore her life in favor of me, no matter how much I wanted her attention and support.

"No, no. It's fine. Just my boss." She laughed it off, but I had a feeling that there was more to it than she was telling me.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Starving," I smiled back.


	13. Chapter 13

AN: This is Tami's chapter, and she wants me to apologize for her that it took so long to write BUT I have to add my two cents in that she was extremely sick, so this is a bit understandable. Thankfully, she feels a lot better now and this is a great addition to the story!

* * *

BPOV

"Bella! Cmon," Alice exclaimed, tugging my arm and propelling me out of the stands. I stalled long enough for Edward to meet my eyes as he glanced over the head of the reporter interviewing him. He nodded almost imperceptibly and gave me a small, sympathetic smile, before turning his attention back to the reporter. I sighed, at least knowing he wouldn't miss me. I glanced worriedly at the clock. He was supposed to swim the final in a couple hours and should be warming down and getting a massage. The reporter had accosted him as soon as he'd set foot out of the water and had been occupying way too much of his valuable time. I bit my lip wondering if I should go step in and save him, slowing my already dragging pace even more.

"Bella!" Alice screeched, her voice growing higher pitched to emphasize her irritation, "Stop dawdling. I told you that I needed to talk to you and the only way I'm going to get a decent conversation from you is if I take you out of his vicinity so you can't make sheep eyes at him and sigh every time he flexes his muscles." I stopped walking, slightly insulted. I really wasn't that bad, was I? It couldn't be that obvious that I was madly in love with Edward Cullen.

"Fine, Alice. I'll come, but we have to be back here for the race," I said. I let her lead me forward and drifted off into thoughts of the night before. Edward had been so amazingly sweet. Somehow he'd sensed the need that I'd always had to conquer my fear of water, and he'd made it possible. Of course, we could have been sinking deeper and deeper into quicksand and I wouldn't have minded. Not with his lips pressed on mine, taking me away from the world and into a place that I'd feared didn't exist--at least for me. But it did, that glorious place where a person could achieve bliss just by being with that special someone. In all of my previous relationships, I'd never felt this way, never felt the world disappear so completely, and I'd never been happier. I ignored the ever-present warning in the back of my head that told me it was too good to be true, that Edward couldn't possibly feel the same way about me as I did about him, no matter how loving he acted towards me. He was under a great amount of stress, and for some reason I seemed to relieve it at the moment. Of course, when the races were over and he had those medals in his pocket, he'd be even more famous and wouldn't want to spend his time with a small town, average reporter.

Alice cut off my thoughts as she tugged me into an empty room. I sat down and watched her pace back and forth, muttering to herself. Finally I couldn't take it anymore. "What, Alice? Why did you drag me here?"

She stopped pacing and came to stand in front of my chair. "Everyone is acting so strange. Emmett is always walking around with a secretive smile on his face and won't tell me anything, you've disappeared off the planet lately and the only time I see you, you're mooning around, and Rose won't go shopping with me! She says she needs to focus on her matches, which I understand, but we are in China and we can't leave without buying a cheongsam for each of us. But all of you are too caught up in life to take a time out. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm so happy for you now that you finally found someone, Bella. Really happy. It's just that I've missed you lately. And you aren't telling me anything." She broke off in a huff and I was finally beginning to understand her. I had never been this secretive about my relationships before and generally the first thing I did after coming home from a date was to call her. But this was too fresh for me, too new, and I didn't know how to convey that to her.

"I'm sorry, Alice. I know that I haven't been as open about my relationship with Edward as I usually am. It's just that, I don't know exactly what to think. He's everything I've ever wanted...and more, but it all scares me. It's all happened so fast and we're from entirely different lives. I feel like I'm living in a dream world right now, and as soon as the swimming is over, then it's all over. He'll go back to his every day life, and I'll go back to doing meaningless articles at the bottom of the totem pole at the Oregonian," I explained.

She was silent for a moment before she spoke. "Bella, I know you're scared. Everyone who has finally found the right person gets that way. Its inevitable, really, and you guys have perhaps a bit more difficulties than most couples. But, listen to me. It really doesn't matter. I've seen the way that man looks at you and the way you look at him, and I know that you guys are going to make it. There is nothing that is going to pry him from your side..unless that something is you." She looked at me shrewdly and for some odd reason, I felt guilty. As if I was planning on screwing up the best thing that ever happened to me!

I tried to secretly glance at my watch, hoping she wouldn't spot my need to monitor the time. I wasn't going to miss a second of this final. I had to admit, I was nervous for Edward. The buzz around here was that this was one of two races where Edward really had to worry about not winning the gold with his team members. It wasn't that they were bad, it was that Spain's team was extraordinarily good. They'd been inching up on the world record (currently held by the American team) at every meet and had sworn to beat them.

"Bella," Alice snapped, "stop looking at your watch. We have plenty to time. Besides, that's not the only reason I called you in here."

"It isn't," I asked curiously, momentarily distracted by the thought of a reason that was even more important to Alice than my love life and her need to take at least one shopping trip in China.

"Of course not. I would have just cornered you at your hotel tonight if that's all I wanted to talk about," she huffed. I looked at her and waited, unwilling to chance a guess that I knew ultimately would be wrong.

"Bella, have you by chance been ignoring certain phone calls?" she asked sweetly. Of course. Somehow she'd found out about me ignoring calls from Laurent. I wouldn't put it past him to find a way to contact her.

"I didn't want to deal with him. How did you know by the way?" I muttered.

"Well, he's been calling and complaining to Jasper. You know, last night was the last straw. Three in the morning and his phone starts ringing again. May I suggest that you give him a call so he not only gets off our backs but stops pestering you as well?"

"I just don't know what to say to him. He already suggested that the only reason I got this opportunity was because of my looks. Now there really is a relationship, but one that I refuse to use for any sort of publicity," I answered, biting my lip in worry.

"May I give you some advice, Bella?" she asked in a concerned tone. I nodded, and she continued. "You're right. This article has nothing to do with your personal life and you just need to tell your boss that. You're going to write about Edward Cullen: the amazing Olympic swimmer, not Edward Cullen: the amazing boyfriend. Edward trusts you to write whatever is best for him. You just need to trust yourself," she advised.

Although I was a little thrown off by her use of the word boyfriend, I saw the logic in what she was saying. I also realized that I'd have to talk to my boss sometime, so I might as well get it over with. Next time he called, I'd answer. I'd be strong and professional, and wouldn't let his unwanted questions about my relationship with Edward rattle me. Alice seeing my newfound resolve, nodded her head in satisfaction and pulled me out of my seat.

"Okay, now that that's all settled, let's get back and watch the races." I looked down at my watch and gasped. I only had an hour until Edward swam and I still hadn't had a chance to work on the article. I'd planned on using the time between races to make a general outline of things I definitely wanted to write about him in the article. Now I wouldn't have much of a chance--not after we went through security then pushed our way through the stands to our spot. At least I'd been able to talk about how I'd been feeling to Alice. She was always good for advice and reassurance.

****************

I sat in the stands shifting nervously as Edward stood next to his teammates. It was only a few minutes before the race would began and I was already nervous, hands trembling as I watched him shake hands with his team members before stretching and pulling on his goggles. He would be swimming second and I knew that this was one race that was not certain for him. He would be swimming second, and I knew he would do wonderful, of course, but it all hinged on his teammate Tyler, who would be the anchor. They were up against a very swift Spanish team, and it would be a tight, nerve-wracking race.

Seven minutes later, I was breathing a huge sigh of relief as Edward and his teammates one yet another gold medal for the USA. They stood victorious as Jacob Black and his team members looked on, scowls on their faces. I couldn't help but gloat that he was getting just what he deserved--losing yet again. The phone in my purse began to vibrate, and instinctively I knew exactly who it would be. Laurent. I sighed, then began making my way out of the stands. I'd promised Alice I would talk to him, and apparently now was the time of reckoning.

I saw Edward glance up as I pushed my way through the stands, and waved to him. He smiled and turned his attention back to the dozens of reporters vying for his attention, and I finally made my way through the crowds. The phone had stopped ringing by this point, but I knew it was only a matter of time before it began ringing again. Sure enough, just as I reached a door that led to one of the many small conference rooms, the phone began to vibrate once again.

I stepped into the room and pulled out the phone. Sure enough, Laurent Dubois was blinking across the screen. I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and flipped the phone open. "Hello," I said and winced at the squeaky sound of my voice. Stupid nerves.

"Bella," Laurent's slimy voiced replied, "it's so nice to finally hear your voice again. So the question is: have you been avoiding my calls, or are you too busy with your boy toy to answer?" I felt my temper ignite. I could never talk to him without feeling I was doing something sneaky and wrong.

"Maybe I've been completing my assignment and getting a good story," I answered, trying unsuccessfully to keep my voice steady. "I can promise you an amazing article about Edward Cullen, but anything about my personal life, or any relationship I may form while employed by you is strictly off limits. Besides, there is absolutely nothing going on with me and Edward. Our relationship is strictly professional." I cringed at the lie.

"Bella, Bella, Bella, no need to get testy with me. I was just a bit put off by you not answering my calls and giving me an update and maybe I got a bit carried away. Calm down," he retorted.

"Sorry," I apologized meekly, not really meaning it.

"Well, now that we've got that settled, how's the article coming?" he asked and I spent the next few minutes explaining that I was being given plenty of information to write an article that would do our paper justice. Thinking that I'd gotten through the conversation without being interrogated, I prepared to say goodbye.

"Well, I'd better.."I began, but was interrupted by Laurent, once again slipping into his too innocent, slick tone that he used to question people with. I sighed. Of course it was too much to hope that I would get out of the conversation that easily.

"So, now that we've gotten through the particulars, why don't you tell the truth about what is happening between you and Edward Cullen? I still can't imagine that he would have picked an unknown journalist for such a huge story." Of course. We were back to this again.

I knew that if I continued to tell him that any relationship I had was none of this business and that there was absolutely nothing going on between us, that he'd jump to conclusions that I really was involved with Edward Cullen. He had a theory that a vehement denial over and over was just a cover up to the truth, and he was usually right. I only hoped that he would trust me not to lie to him and let this topic drop. I would not use Edward to get ahead in my job in any way, no matter how many awkward conversations I was going to have with my boss. Before I could open my mouth to deny a relationship once again, my phone beeped to let me know I had an incoming call and I'd never been more grateful for call waiting or for Alice in my entire life when I glanced down at the screen to see who the caller was.

"I've gotta go," I said quickly to Laurent before he could question me anymore, "I've got a call on the other line, and it could be important. I'll call you later." I hit the call button before he could answer and greeted Alice.

"Where are you?" she screeched. "Emmett is going to be lifting his weights in about 30 minutes. We've got to get moving if we want to make it!" I tucked my phone back in my purse and rushed out the door, determined to talk to Edward as soon as I could. I needed him. And not just to feel his incredible arms around me, but for reassurance and guidance. I was going to tell him how Laurent was pressuring me, and ask him for guidance. Usually I preferred to figure things out on my own, but for the first time in a long while, I didn't want that. I wanted to share things with Edward, wanted to run problems by him and have him help me. Most of all, I wanted him to bring his problems to me, and have him trust me enough to make things better. Like I trusted him, at least with my problems. I still couldn't stop believing that the dream would end once the last gold medal was in his hand, and he'd disappear back into his glamorous world, leaving me on the outside.

A few hours later, I was the one dragging Alice away from the building we had watched Emmett crush his competition in. I was anxious to get to Edward. We'd exchanged a few texts and I knew he wasn't currently busy and waiting for me. I quickened my pace at the thought.

"Wait, Bella!" Alice finally squealed, causing me to slow my pace for a second. I looked at her and was surprised that she was almost running to keep up with me. I smiled sheepishly at her. "Sorry," I apologized.

"It's okay, I understand. I think I'll let you go ahead. I'll just go back and wait for Jasper to finish taking those pictures. See ya later," she said, waving to me. Though I felt slightly guilty, nothing was going to stop me from getting to Edward as quickly as I could, so I waved in return, and continued my mad dash towards the athletes village. Edward was supposed to meet me out front, and I didn't want to keep him waiting any longer than he already had.

I slowed my pace as the building came in sight, hoping that I'd done so quickly enough that Edward hadn't spotted the crazy leap I'd just made over a puddle in the sidewalk. Somehow I hadn't noticed it until it was right in front of me and I miraculously managed to jump it without tripping and falling into a heap right in the middle of it.

He was standing in front of the building looking as perfect as ever. I slowed down even more, trying unsuccessfully to rearrange my wild hair and praying futilely that my cheeks weren't bright red from my schoolgirl antics. I stopped right in front of him, suddenly unsure of how I should greet him, still not wanting to be _too _obvious about our relationship when anyone could be watching. He solved my dilemma quickly by pulling me into his arms and placing a soft kiss on my lips. _I was home. _I pulled back and let him hold me for a while, savoring our closeness.

"So, what do you want to do tonight? We could go to dinner again, and we could interview each other more," Edward suggested smiling at me. I smiled at his suggestion. "Or," he continued sneakily, "we could go jump over some puddles. I noticed that you like to do that." His grin was full blown now and I scowled at him.

"You weren't supposed to see that," I said glaring at him for teasing me.

"Hey, I thought it was cute. So what's the game plan?"

"Well, actually I was wondering if I could talk to you about something," I began hesitantly.

"Sure. Is everything alright? You look worried," he asked in a concerned tone.

"Well, my boss has been calling me. He's..pestering me. He keeps asking me what our relationship is, probably thinking he's going to get the scoop on you before anyone else. I've denied anything between us. I don't want you to think that I would ever use you or anything that's between us to get ahead in my work. And I would never use anything that you tell me in confidence--things you don't want the world to know--in the article I'm writing," I explained.

"Bella, I know that you wouldn't. I trust you remember. Would you like me to call your boss and talk to him? I can assure him that I have complete confidence in your journalism skills and that I selected you to do the article because you were highly recommended by Alice if that will make you feel better." He hugged me and I relaxed against him.

"You don't have to do that. I think what I told him earlier satisfied him and hopefully he'll leave me alone. Thanks, though," I said and couldn't help but smile at him.

"Well, now that's settled, why don't we go find something to eat?" he suggested, grabbing my hand and pulling me along. "I'm starving."

"That's not anything new," I laughed and quickened my footsteps to keep up with him.

* * *

special surprise POV next chapter by bethaboo!!!!!

should be up in a few days!


	14. Chapter 14

AN: Okay, so I have to issue a mea culpa. This chapter is NOT the surprise POV. That didn't quite fit into the plot we had now, and I wanted to move the story forward more. So, that will be upcoming, but I think this is pretty good for now.

Thanks to Angel for her awesome tattoo suggestion and WTVOC for giving me lots of tattoos to think about and Starshinedown for the hot swimmer website.

* * *

EPOV

Dinner was finally drawing to a close and for the first time in a week, I was a bundle of nerves. I'd gotten used to being with Bella and even though our time together was typically short and not nearly as frequent as I wanted it to be, we'd grown more comfortable in each other's presence. She no longer blushed and stammered and I finally managed to stop putting my foot in my mouth.

But tonight, I felt like I'd returned to square one with Bella. I kept telling myself that it was a simple enough request. We'd certainly had enough late night phone conversations when I couldn't sleep—this was just another one of those, except, of course, that we would be in the same bed.

I paid the check and we walked outside into the fragrant evening air. I could smell the vendors cooking various Chinese delicacies—and well, some not-so-delicacies—and though I'd just consumed a whole meal, my stomach perked up in interest.

And of course, Bella grimaced. "Ugh, food smells," she said, wrinkling her nose. "I'm so full it almost hurts to smell anything else."

"Full?" I laughed at her. "Full? You ate like a quarter of what I ate, and I'm ready to go some more."

Bella groaned again, her face turning toward mine. "I thought we'd agreed that our individual food consumption can't be compared."

I paused, pretending to ponder this for a minute. "I still think you should eat more."

She shook her head, a huge smile on her face, "Nope. Not possible. Besides, you burn about a million times the calories I do."

"That's true," I said, glancing around to make sure no photographers were present and I tucked her hand into mine.

Bella sighed contentedly, and we stood there, outside the restaurant, her eyes on me, no doubt waiting for me to say goodnight. Except that was the last thing I wanted to say and even though I was already being considered America's Hero, I couldn't even ask the girl I loved if she'd come back with me to my room.

"Uh," I stammered, and the corner of her lips quirked upwards in amusement, but I knew she could have no idea what was on my mind. She probably just thought I was being awkward again, and undoubtedly, I was, but not for the reason she thought.

"What's wrong?" Bella asked and the expression on her face wasn't concerned, but wary. Probably wary that we'd taken five steps forward only to take ten steps back.

"I'm fine," I told her with as much of a careless tone as I could muster. I was so damn nervous I was surprised I didn't squeak.

"Actually," I continued, after gathering together whatever nerve I had left, "I'm a little nervous."

"About tomorrow?" Bella's voice was definitely worried, and while I hated manipulating her emotions to get her to do what I wanted, I figured that having a little sympathy on my side couldn't hurt.

"Well no," I finally had to acknowledge. Races failed to make me nervous anymore, even though I was at the Olympics and attempting an unprecedented run of gold medals. For anyone else, the pressure would probably break them, but for me, the pressure was a motivator. And really, Bella knew that. I couldn't lie. I took a deep breath and continued. "Really, it's not about the swimming."

Bella looked confused. "You're not? What on earth would you have to be nervous about then?"

I ducked my head in embarrassment. Here I was bragging about being not at all nervous about the swimming, but I was going to admit that she made me nervous. If I hadn't sounded like a nutjob yet, I definitely was going to now.

Her hand squeezed mine, and she looked up at me, her gaze so trusting and true that I couldn't help but smile and confess all.

"I really enjoy our phone conversations when I can't sleep, Bella," I began.

She interrupted me, a sudden flash of disappointment in her eyes. "Oh no! Did Carlisle find out?"

"No, no, no. Nothing like that," I reassured her, all the while telling myself to man up. "I really like them too. In fact, I like them so much that I want more."

Bella's mouth fell open in the most adorable way. "You want what?" At first I thought she might be offended, and I momentarily steeled myself for what was about to come next, but instead, she threw her arms around me so suddenly I almost stumbled.

I gave her a far, far too quick kiss--I was still worried the paparazzi might be around and I would hate to expose her on the kind of international level that I dealt with on a daily basis--and told her in a teasing voice, "You don't even know what I want."

The look Bella gave me from under her long, thick sooty lashes was enough to make every muscle in my body stand at rigid, immediate attention. In fact, my reaction was so. . .pronounced. . .I was afraid she could feel it, and I moved away from her slightly, praying my hoody covered the worst of it.

"What do you want?" she asked and her voice was low and measured, almost hypnotizing. I was so far gone with her, I didn't even want to come back for air. I'd gladly drown.

"Come stay the night with me," I said.

"You mean, come stay the night and sleep with you," Bella replied and her voice, I had to give her credit, wavered just a little at the end. Other than that, you wouldn't have known she was making such an important clarification.

"No," I told her emphatically. "That's not what I meant at all. I just. . .I just want to sleep next to you. To hear your voice."

"That's all?" Bella asked, and I told myself that wasn't a twinge of disappointment in her voice. I was going to be a gentleman—I was in fact determined to be a gentleman, even though I knew it would be difficult.

"Yes," I told her valiantly.

Because I knew it would be closer to impossible.

"Are you sure I wouldn't distract you?" Bella didn't look won over to the idea yet, and I began to panic a little. She had to say yes. I didn't know what I'd do if she said no.

"Of course not," I insisted. "I'd just sit up and toss and turn and you know, I do have two important races tomorrow. . ." I trailed off, having just thrown my trump card into the pot. If Bella didn't go for that, I didn't know what else to try.

"So you weren't just kidding?" Bella asked, sounding more surprised than I'd been expecting.

"Kidding about what? You helping me sleep? Of course not."

"Talking on the phone really helped?"

I hated the way that Bella's voice was growing more and more incredulous. I wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she understood that I loved every thing about her. She might not know it yet, but she was mine.

"Yes. I couldn't sleep without your voice." I looked into her eyes and tried to impress on her that I was telling the truth.

She was silent for a good thirty seconds, sending my heart into the region of my stomach.

Finally, she spoke. "I thought that. . .I thought that you weren't being serious. You're Edward Cullen. Why would you need help from me to sleep? You're famous for being able to sleep anywhere!" She threw up her hands in disgust and I almost could see her walking away from me—but she didn't. She just stood there, arms crossed over her chest, giving me a level stare.

"I was being honest," I said. "From the first moment I met you, I haven't been able to get you from my mind, even when I should be sleeping."

"Wow," Bella replied softly. "I don't know what to even say to that." She looked down at the ground and I could sense her pulling away—in nervousness maybe? Honestly I didn't know why but I knew I couldn't let it happen. Maybe I shouldn't have delivered the unvarnished truth quite so fast.

I tilted up her chin so that she could look right into my eyes and I held her hands with my own. "Please, Bella. Please."

I didn't even remember the last time I had asked for anything and had to beg for it, but I'd do a lot more for Bella, if only she'd relent.

I knew the second she did, because she blushed and smiled, and I grabbed her into my arms, regardless of who was watching. She looked up at my ecstatic face and giggled. "Edward, does it mean that much to you?"

I nodded emphatically. "Yes."

"You should know," she said shyly, and her blush deepened, "it would be pretty impossible for me to deny you anything."

This was great news, but I forced the inner frat boy to promise not to exploit Bella's weakness.

"Let's go," I said, pulling her in the direction of one of the entrances to the Olympic Village.

"Wait," she said, resisting my pull. "What about my stuff? Shouldn't we go back to my hotel?"

I beamed at her. All my life it felt like I'd had Esme and Carlisle orchestrating every single detail of my life. I'd never had to take care of someone else before, especially someone that I loved and I was finding it was a unique and incredible experience that I intended to repeat as often as possible.

"It's all taken care of," I told her, and her jaw dropped a little again. "I got you a toothbrush and well, everything else you'd need."

"Just for me?" Her voice was incredulous, and I was sick of her thinking that she wasn't worthy, no matter how much I insisted otherwise.

"Only for you, Bella," I told her firmly, putting my arm around her and guiding her towards the Olympic Village entrance.

As I expected, there was security in the gateway, checking badges of the athletes that were coming and going.

"How are we going to get through?" Bella whispered. "I don't have a badge."

I pulled the badge I'd managed to get my hands on and doctor. "You do now!" I announced, dropping it into her hands.

Bella was clearly shocked at my audacity as she examined the badge, but then she looked up at me, and I could see mischievousness sparkling in her beautiful brown eyes. I wanted to give a whoop that my girl was in on the plan, but I restrained myself as we neared the entrance.

The bored guard examined the badges lazily, barely glancing at them, and a lot of that probably had to do with who I was. Usually I hated being well known, but at least in this case, it got me something I wanted, which was Bella, next to me, all night long.

We raced up the stairs in my building instead of taking the elevator, and I was surprised to see that, like me, Bella wasn't even breathing hard. So was definitely more athletic than she let on. She might never make a swimmer, but I was curious to see what sports she did like. I resolved to interrogate her as soon as we got to my room.

I knew that Tyler had befriended a Swedish equestrienne, so he'd be out of the room the whole night. I'd definitely been jealous when he'd first told me, but I hadn't managed to ask him how he managed to keep his stamina up if he was busy depleting it every night. I was just too plain embarrassed to try to contradict Carlisle's admonition. Even with Bella.

Finally, I'd just resolved that I would wait until the races were over. I could wait a week, and besides, I definitely didn't want to rush Bella into anything. I could wait months--okay, maybe not months--but longer, if she needed the extra time.

I swiped the keycard and opened the door for Bella. Her eyes were huge as she took in the minimalist, streamlined white room.

"Do you ever feel like you're in a hospital?" she asked, her voice tinged with awe.

I laughed. "Really, the only time I spend in here is when I sleep--or when I try to sleep."

Her face turned up towards mine and her eyes sparkled. "And where is that?"

"You're tired already?" I asked, hoping against hope that she was already ready to go to bed. I didn't want to tell her that all my nerves over asking her had exhausted me—not my races.

"Is there anything else to do?" Bella's busy eyes were taking in every little bit of the sparse rooms. And yeah, she was totally right. There was nothing to do. Clearly, the Olympic Committee was trying to encourage people to spend some time in the city of Beijing, but all I wanted to do right now was spend time with Bella. It didn't really matter where we were, though, really, if I had a choice, I'd definitely pick the bedroom right now.

"Do you want to go back out?" I wondered if we could possibly get Bella through security twice in a short time, but I'd figure it out if that was what she wanted.

Bella shook her head. "No. Definitely not." She scrunched her nose up. "Besides, how would we even get through security again?"

I laughed and pulled her close, dropping a single kiss on the top of her head. "My thoughts exactly," I told her.

Bella nestled herself against me and we just stood there a minute, enjoying that we were finally able to be alone. I'd made Bella promise not to be too demonstrative in public, no matter how much she felt like it, so that the international press couldn't latch onto her as well. And as much as I hated it, I kept my distance as well. The last thing I wanted was for Bella to get involved in the media circus surrounding my life.

"I wish we could do this all the time," she said, echoing my thoughts.

"Me too," I murmured into her hair. "I never want to let you go."

I could feel her breathing hitch, and I wondered if I'd said something wrong.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Nothing," Bella replied, "I just wasn't expecting you to say that." Her voice was low and I could tell she was pondering something through, but before I could even reply, she had my hand and she was yanking me in the direction of the bedrooms.

"Are you going to show me your bedroom or not?" she asked me, smiling, with a teasing lilt. It was as if the last thirty seconds hadn't even happened. I figured that maybe she'd figured out the answer to her own question, and I shrugged it off. I wanted to enjoy my time with Bella, not overanalyze her words and actions.

"Yes," I said, leading her down the hallway and opening the door to my room.

I'd certainly been expecting to see the one bed, and I knew that Bella hadn't expected anything different, but still, seeing it there in all its oneness made us both stop in our tracks.

"You. . .you," Bella hesitated. "You only have one bed."

Both of us were staring at it as if it might evaporate into thin air at any second.

I decided that I might as well try to pretend like this wasn't a big deal. Maybe that would make Bella feel more comfortable—if she didn't know that I was just as nervous and scared as she was.

"Of course."

Bella's expression told me right away that I'd made completely the wrong decision. Typical. I really was beginning to rue all the time I'd spent swimming that I could have spent learning some sort of normal social interaction.

"Of course," she replied back shortly, and her tone had taken on a hard edge that I didn't like.

"Bella, it's okay. I'm nervous too," I finally admitted. "More nervous than I wanted to tell you."

"Really?" She looked up at me, her skin luminous in the dim light. She laughed a little, and I could feel the tension in the room dissipating. "I thought you were all cool and calm and collected and I hated how nervous I felt in comparison."

"Trust me," I confided. "I may have sounded relaxed, but I wasn't. I was so afraid you'd say no."

Bella plopped down on the bed, clearly no longer upset, and I breathed an inward sigh of relief that she'd managed to relax despite how terribly I'd bungled the situation.

I sat down next to her and oh so casually rested my hand on her upper thigh.

"You ready to go to bed?" I asked, running my other hand through her brown hair, moving it to her other shoulder and exposing her beautiful graceful neck.

Bella nodded, and her head dropped to my shoulder. "What am I going to wear?"

I'd certainly done my part planning this whole thing, but who knew if she was going to like it. I'd already messed up enough tonight. Still, I forced the nervousness down and told her, "Well, I'd kind of planned for you to wear something of mine." What I didn't mention was that her wearing my clothes was quickly becoming a favorite fantasy of mine.

She seemed relatively unfazed by this revelation and I mentally crossed my fingers that what else I was about to tell her wouldn't be information overload.

"Clothes and toothbrush and toothpaste are all in the bathroom. I didn't know if you wore contacts or not, but there's an extra case and solution," I told her rather proudly. I'd spent a good part of the night before, and while waiting for my backstroke heat earlier today coming up with a complete list of what Bella would need.

"That's so sweet of you, to think of everything," she murmured, and snaked one hand up to rub the back of my neck. Before I could even register what was happening, she pulled my head down, and was kissing me. It was hot and wet and almost a little sloppy, but this was Bella, so it was really, just perfect.

When we finally broke apart, I was nearly panting with my desire to push her back into the bed and let the frat boy have his way.

"Maybe I should go get ready for bed," Bella whispered, and I had to clench the comforter to keep myself from pulling her lips back to mine.

"Okay," I agreed. "Bathroom's the first door on the right."

I watched her disappear out the doorway and I fell back onto the mattress, trying to reason a way back into my self-control.

Finally, I sat up and unbuckled my belt, tugging my jeans down over my boxer-clad hips. I pulled off the hoody, and glanced over in the mirror. I was still wearing a t-shirt and boxers—which was a t-shirt and boxers more than I ever wore to bed, but I certainly couldn't go to bed naked with Bella. I'd be breaking Carlisle's rule in under thirty seconds.

I adjusted the boxers and looked again. Okay. That might work. It was going to be super restricting, but I guessed that for Bella I'd sacrifice just about anything. Even creature comforts such as sleeping naked.

I was contemplating the day when comfort wouldn't have to be sacrificed when I heard a slight knock on the door, and I looked up to see Bella hesitantly entering the room again.

She was dressed in the same clothes I'd set out for her, but just as with the swimsuit I'd purchased, seeing it on Bella was a whole different beast.

The t-shirt dwarfed her, completely, but there was just enough shape to it that I could tell she'd taken her bra off, and I felt my knees weaken slightly.

I forced my eyes downward and took in her long slim legs, set off perfectly by my navy blue boxer shorts. Those were going in a hall of fame as soon as physically possible.

Bella twisted her hands together and I snapped out of it. My intense perusal was making her nervous. Whoops.

"Oh, Bella, I'm sorry. You're just so. . .breathtaking. Beautiful."

She raised one eyebrow as she walked over to the bed and climbed on, sitting down with her legs crossed.

I joined her, and I was almost a little embarrassed by how much the bed shifted when I did. Even though I used it as my weapon in the pool, I still felt huge and awkward and clumsy in my body. I'd stopped wondering if I'd ever feel comfortable. I knew I wouldn't. You have limbs as long as mine, you try not feeling like a bull in a china shop.

"I'm not beautiful," Bella confided, rather matter-of-factly, "but thank you for saying it anyway."

"You are," I insisted, holding my hand up when she opened her mouth to contradict me again. "No arguments to the contrary, please."

She sighed. "Okay, well, do you want to go to sleep or. . ."

I didn't feel at all ready to lay next to her, under the covers. I needed more time to prepare—if I could even really prepare at all.

"Do you want to talk for awhile?" I asked.

"Sure, that's a good idea, actually. I have a few more questions I want to ask you."

"Okay," I said with a bit of trepidation. I didn't like the sound of questions, but I couldn't exactly tell her no. The frat boy was yelling at me to throw her back on the bed and kiss her until neither of us could even remember there were questions to be asked. But, I was a lot stronger than that. At the very least, I hoped I was.

Suddenly she whipped out a small notebook from her bag on the floor by the bed, and I knew I got a deer in the headlights expression.

"Oh don't worry," she reassured me. "It's just a few things. Details, really."

"Sure, then, ask away." I was trying to be confident and glib, but my stomach was clenching. I hated reporters, and though I definitely loved Bella, I still didn't love that part of her. I was definitely wary of the reporter in her.

"How many tattoos do you have?" she asked, her head down and her long hair shielding what was certainly a blush from my eyes.

"Don't you have that memorized too? I thought reporters were supposed to do their research," I teased, reaching over and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear—effectively exposing a large slice of Bella's furiously blushing face.

"Ah. .uh. . .well. . ." she stumbled, and I grinned cockily. I'd caught her, red-handed.

"Well, I suppose I could look it up," she replied, raising her eyes to meet mine, and there was a definite challenge in their depths. "But, it would be so much easier if you'd just show me. Here and now. Live."

I think my jaw must have dropped. I considered my tattoos pretty private parts of myself—well, as private as they could be when I wore a fairly revealing swimsuit a good deal of the time.

All I knew was that Bella was smiling at me with the most flirtatious, sensual look on her face that I'd ever seen, and that I was pretty much honor bound to strip . . .well. . .all my clothes off so she could see them all.

Finally I got my voice back. "Um," I croaked. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

She looked right at me, with no guile and still a bit of challenge deep in her eyes. "Is there a problem?"

I knew that Bella had realized I never backed down from a challenge. I set my jaw and told myself that I'd just have to maintain control, somehow.

"Are you taking notes?" I asked archly. "You'd better not miss this. You won't be getting a second showing. Or a third." Ha. I was such a liar. And Bella's secret smile as I got off the bed made it clear that she knew I was lying too.

I pulled off my shirt and threw it on the floor. Bella crawled to the edge of the bed, forgetting about her notebook entirely, I noted with amusement, and rose to her knees, her head still not even coming to my chin.

"Where's the first one?" she whispered, and suddenly the room felt about fifty degrees too hot, despite that I was shirtless.

I lifted one arm, and showed her the intricate tribal design that started just under my armpit and traveled down the side of my torso.

Bella reached out a single fingertip, and I shivered the moment it touched my skin. She traced the tattoo all the way down, and even though it tickled a little, I couldn't have moved even if I'd wanted to. Of course, there was definitely a part of my anatomy that this didn't apply to, and it had definitely grown a bit too hard to move.

"This is beautiful," she murmured. "Very intricate. Did it hurt?"

I supposed I could give her the manly, frat boy answer. "Of course not," I scoffed.

Bella gave me just one look, and I crumpled. "Like hell," I conceded. "But, I'll admit the pain is rather cleansing, in a way."

The look on her face told me she definitely doubted the veracity of that statement, but I certainly wasn't going to contradict myself again.

"Next," she ordered, and her manner was again businesslike. The notebook was back, and I'd have believed the act, if I didn't see her hands tremble as she picked up the pen.

And yeah, things were about to get a hell of a lot hotter.

I turned around, and her fingers again traced the bright orange sun I'd had done on the high nape of my neck, almost under my hair. "For California," I clarified, and I turned around to see her scribbling on that damned pad again.

Okay, Bella, let's see if you can keep your composure with this.

"You've probably heard about these," I admitted, pushing the right side of my boxers down on my hipbone, until almost all the Olympic rings were exposed.

I was honestly a little afraid to pull them down any farther, because I was so hard it hurt, and though she could hardly be unaware, I didn't want to shove that particular part of my anatomy in her face. Okay, so I did. But tonight was definitely not the right moment for that.

Naturally, Bella didn't want to be prudent. She took control herself and lowered the fabric of my boxers the rest of the way, and I almost gasped at the feel of her hands on me.

When she spoke again, her voice was conversational and there was no blush in sight, almost as if this was surreal and she'd forgotten I was nearly naked in front of her. "You know, I've been thinking about licking this."

I commended myself on not falling over.

"You what?" I spluttered. "Bella, really, that is. . .that is. . .the hottest thing I've ever heard, but you're going to have to keep that to yourself."

Her eyes, hot and filled with tenderness, met mine. "Why not?" she asked simply.

I felt the control slipping out of my fingers. There was one long, tenuous moment, where I wasn't sure I could wrestle the frat boy under control, and I nearly felt her underneath me, moving hard against. . .

Snap out of it, I ordered myself sternly.

"There's more to see," I said, breaking the heat of the moment.

"Okay," she replied, clearly okay with that too.

I made sure to shift my boxers back up before I moved down the left side of the elastic to expose my USC logo. The burgundy and gold glowed dully in the low light as I glanced down, following Bella's gaze.

"Are there any more?" Bella's voice was hushed, and the temperature raised again. Her hands rested on my chest, and I barely refrained from flexing and showing off.

"Just one more," I said, and I couldn't help the gravely, lust-filled edge tone.

"Where is it?" she asked, craning her neck upwards until our mouths were only a breath away. I lost focus and almost forgot what she was asking about.

I hated to do it, but I took her hands carefully off my chest, and turned around, lifting the hem of my boxers almost all the way up to my butt.

I heard her little intake of breath when she saw it, and nothing had ever sounded so hot.

"It's a . . .cat," she said, sounding definitely surprised.

I nodded. I was about to correct her by saying it was a stylized portrayal of a cat—the cat that had died when I was 19—when I distinctly felt her tongue touch my skin.

Oh no. She was doing it. She was licking the tattoo on my back thigh. I nearly jumped out of my skin, and I could feel my control definitely slipping.

"Bella," I warned, feeling the frat boy begin to take control.

"What?" she asked, way too innocently.

"That's it, you've asked for it," I growled, turning around and pushing her back against the bed. My mouth met hers, hot and hard, and Bella squirmed against me. I loved that she was trying to get closer, and I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her flush against me, letting her feel just how much she'd turned me on.

We kissed and kissed, until we broke apart, panting for air.

"Wow," Bella breathed. "I had no idea that would happen."

I looked over at her, and saw the smile playing on her lips.

"Liar," I laughed. "You totally did."

She shrugged, admitting yet denying, everything.

"Come here," I told her, and she didn't hesitate, but wrapped herself around me, laying her head on my bare chest. Holding her felt strangely better than any of the gold medals I'd won this week. Maybe even all of them combined.

"Are you tired?" I asked, noticing that her eyes were closed.

She nodded slightly, and I reached over and turned the light off, and dragged the comforter over us. The last thing I remembered was the feel of her breaths on my bare skin. And I loved every single one.


	15. Chapter 15

**This is Tami's chapter. ENJOY!!!!**

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BPOV  
I woke up, and fought to hold on to my dream. Of course it had been of Edward, holding me in his arms as we cuddled together in his room. I cuddled deeper into the mattress and realized that it was oddly solid beneath me. I realized that it was warm flesh that I was currently snuggled into and sat up quickly. "Oh," I said, dazed. It hadn't been a dream. Edward was real, and I was in his arms. I sighed contentedly and lay back down just as he began to stir. His arms tightened around me pulling me close.

"Hmmm," he murmured, his chest rumbling beneath my ear, "now this is how I should wake up every day." I felt him brush a kiss on the top of my head and closed my eyes in contentment. We lay together in his tiny bed, him running his fingers through my hair and me resting against his chest, lost in our own world where our careers didn't exist, and we were free to be together without the intrusion of the outside chaos of the Olympics.

But unlike my hoped for fantasy of staying entwined forever, the real world had to intrude, and the blaring alarm clock soon interrupted. I sat up with a gasp, knowing that Edward's roommate could return anytime. "Come back," Edward said, arms reaching for me and as much as I wanted to give in, I knew that it wasn't the smart thing to do.

"We can't," I said, regret filling my voice. "You've got to get ready for your race today, and I'd better get out of the Village before I get caught and land us both in trouble." I pulled away despite his protests and he sighed in defeat.

"Go get ready, and I'll walk you out to make sure you don't get lost in this maze," he instructed and gave me a small kiss before he let me go. I hurried to the bathroom and quickly threw on my jeans from the day before. Looking at my hopelessly wrinkled blouse, I decided to wear Edward's shirt to the hotel and return it to him later. I quickly brushed my teeth, then walked out of the room to see that he had thrown on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He raised his eyebrows when he saw I was still wearing his shirt.

"I was wondering if I could borrow this. I'll return it to you later, but my shirt is just too wrinkled to put on," I explained. He smiled at me, his face lighting up. "Bella, of course I don't mind. I love seeing you in my clothes. It makes me feel...possessive, like I've left my mark on you. You don't have to return it, either. It's yours to keep." He grabbed my hand and laced our fingers, pulling me towards him until our lips were inches apart. "Make sure you bring it to our next sleepover, although I don't know how much you'll need it," he growled before pressing his lips to mine. Once again, we were lost in our own, passionate world. The rattling of the doorknob brought us to our senses, just as he'd reached beneath the hem of my shirt as I pushed him towards the bed.

Frustrated, both of us breathing heavily, we broke apart, both listening to the sounds of Edward's roommate Tyler coming back. We waited breathlessly until he went into his own room, then quietly snuck out the front door, hands entwined as we made our way through the hallways of the athletes' village to the exit. At the exit, we both paused, laughing that we'd been so secretive and hadn't seen a single soul in the hallways. Edward pushed open the door, and leaned down to give me a goodbye kiss. Just as we broke apart, the murmur of voices and flashing lights invaded and we looked around, shocked. Surrounding us were about half a dozen reporters, all with cameras pointed at us.

I instinctively stepped away from Edward, but I knew it was far, far too late. The damage had already been done, and it would soon be on all the newstations. There was nothing that we could do about it. I looked up into Edwards' eyes. I'm sure the shocked expression mirrored my own. Not only had he been caught sneaking me out, but kissing me as well. There would be no doubt as to the nature of our relationship now.

"Go," Edward said, pulling me close so I could hear him. The questions had already started to be fired by the various reporters. "I'll hold them off so you can get away. Sorry," he said apologetically, squeezing my hand tight, then letting me go. I shoved my way through the crowd on shaky legs, trying unsuccessfully to shield my face from the camera, and finally succeeded in freeing myself from the chaos, then began walking as quickly as I could, hoping that I wouldn't be followed, back to my hotel.

Upon reaching the safety of my hotel room, I dialed the one person I knew that could make the panic I was feeling going away. "Please pick up," I muttered over and over again as the ringing sounded in my ear.

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APOV  
I was waiting for Jasper to finish getting ready so we could go to breakfast when my phone started ringing. I glanced at the caller id, ready to turn off the ringer, when I noticed it was Bella's number. I glanced at the time. Either she wanted to go to breakfast with us, or something was very wrong. I had a feeling it was the latter. I hit the call button, expecting to hear the worst.

"Hello?"

"Alice! You need to help me. They found out, all of them and now they are going to follow us around and it might hurt his reputation. And my boss, he'll call me and know I lied to him. And it's going to ruin everything, just wait and see," Bella wailed into the phone frantically, leaving me to try and piece together what she was talking about. Obviously she was in full panic mode. I decided to interrupt before it could get any worse.

"Bella? You need to calm down," I instructed, and her explanation cut off. "Now, first I need to know exactly what happened before I can do anything to help," I said gently, trying to keep her calm.

"Well, the press found out. I still don't know how they knew I was there, but they caught Edward sneaking me out of the athletes' village this morning and now its going to be all over the newstations."

"I can't imagine that you are very surprised, Bella. They were bound to find out sometime," I commented.

"Well, it's too soon. I wasn't ready yet. Do you know what's going to happen now? He's going to realize how different we are, especially when he sees those pictures, and its all going to come crashing down." I knew I was getting semi-hysterical with panic but I couldn't help myself.

"Bella, I highly doubt that. Now you need to listen to me. What happened is nothing that wouldn't have happened sooner or later, and somehow I don't think Edward will mind. I'm sure that if you haven't been a distraction to him yet, that you won't be one now. Edward's used to being followed by the press, and I'm sure that this won't faze him at all, let alone make him want to end your relationship. Obviously, its something that you'll have to get used to, but its not the end of the world."

"I know it's not. I just wasn't expecting it so soon. Its like this whole thing with Edward is too good to be true, like we have this amazing thing that's been built on tenuous footing and anything can cause it to come crashing down," Bella explained.

"I highly doubt that Bella. I think that Edward would do anything he could to keep you in his life, no matter what. I think it's you that's looking for holes in this relationship."

She was silent for awhile, but I noticed her breathing had slowed down and she didn't seem as frantic. The crisis was averted, for awhile at least.

"I wonder how the press found out," I mused, more to myself than her.

"Well, it doesn't matter. They found out, and now I have to deal with it," she moaned. I smiled at the pitiful sound of her voice. Bella wasn't normally a drama queen, but Edward was bringing out a different Bella than I'd ever seen.

"It'll be fine. Just make sure you communicate with Edward how you're feeling. Now I need to go. Jasper is waiting for me to go to breakfast with him. I'll see you at the meet later on," I said and hung up the phone when I heard her say goodbye to me.

Jasper was now sitting on the end of the bed, waiting for me to finish. I motioned for him to hold on a second, and dialed another number on my phone. It was time to call for reinforcements.

*****************************************************************

I walked into the crowed restaurant looking for her. We'd planned to meet for lunch, but I was running a bit behind. Finally I spotted her, already seated at a table near the back of the building. It was quieter there, more secluded, which would work perfect for our purposes.

She stood up as I neared. "Hi Esme, I'm so glad you could make it," I greeted her. She smiled her own greeting and we both sat down.

After we ordered, I explained the purpose for my call. "I'm here about Bella and Edward," I said to introduce the subject. I knew I was on the right path when she got an enormous smile on her face, obviously very happy about her sons' new love. Too bad I was going to have to give her a reason to worry.

"Isn't it great?" she asked excitedly before I could continue with with my reason for requesting this meeting.

"It really is," I assured her. Edward was possible the best thing that had ever happened to Bella. He was her Jasper, but I was worried that she was going to throw it all away because of insecurities about the relationship. "There might be a problem, though," I continued in a serious voice.

"What? It's not Carlisle is it?" Esme asked, worried. "If it is, I promise you that I'll talk to him," she muttered fiercely.

"No, no, it's got nothing to do with Carlisle. It's Bella. She's getting scared, and this morning the press found out which isn't going to help," I explained.

"Well, I can see how that can make anyone not used to being in the public eye wary, but why is she scared? I'm afraid I don't understand," she answered after a moment.

"I think Bella is insecure about this relationship. She doesn't really have a clear view of herself and she feels inadequate for Edward, a famous swimmer. I guess she really doesn't see what he sees in her and is worried that its all going to end, like this is just something that is for the Olympics only. I have a feeling she's going to run, and maybe there's something we can do to stop her," I added.

"Well, we can't let that happen can we? What do you suggest that I do?" Esme asked after considering my words for awhile. "I don't think she realizes just how different my son is since she came into his life. Its like she's awakened a whole new person in him."

"I was thinking that you could help her see that. Talk to her, tell her how happy she's made him, how different he is now, and let her know how welcome she is in your family. I think that will help her. I'll do my part by continuing to encourage her and give her pep talks. Ultimately the decision is up to her, though. I don't see how we can do anything more, but to let them fall more in love and hope everything turns out for the best."

"I could do that. He really is a whole new person with her around. I just hope this works," Esme commented.

"Me too," I agreed. Our lunch arrived and we spent the rest of it plotting and brainstorming different ways we could keep Bella from panicking. I finally left the restaurant a little less worried and hopeful that my best friend was going to be able to stick it out and find her own happily ever after with Edward.


	16. Chapter 16

**AN: Sorry this took so long--I'm moving and I had to fit it in between packing and cleaning. We did get some great news though! Tami & I are THRILLED that we were nominated for three Twilight Awards! Yes! Going for the Gold has been nominated for Best AU, Best General Romance and Best Edward/Bella. This means so much to us, thank you!!!!!**

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EPOV

I finished my last set of joint-defying stretches and eyed Tyler, who was still warming up two lanes down. Though I hadn't even told Bella, I had a feeling that if I was going to lose, it would be to Tyler. The 200 backstroke definitely wasn't my best event—but it did happen to be Tyler's.

I kind of thought he was betting on the fact that I was likely to be distracted this morning by the amount of press that had been hounding me ever since they'd discovered Bella in my arms, her lips on mine. He probably figured that my mind was on everything but the race. And it was, until the moment I felt the water wash over me, when I knew I had to focus, and the world around me collapsed into just this pool.

But right now, I was still full of anxiety, both over the race and over what Bella's reaction to our 'outing' by the press would be. I hoped that she'd stick with me and know that I would never let her face the indignities of the media outlets alone.

In fact, I'd even done my best to deflect the questioning off Bella and our relationship but the press, like she well knew, were like dogs after a particular tasty bone, and I knew they wouldn't give it up all that easily. In fact, as I prepped for the race today, I knew that was probably what the announcers up in the booth were talking of—my relationship with the pretty reporter instead of the race at hand.

I hated the press even more than I ever had before, and that was saying something.

I knew that if I turned on E! right now, I'd probably see some blond airhead Jessica Rabbitt-lookalike rhapsodizing about "budding Olympic love." The last thing I'd wanted to do was expose Bella this way for rabid worldwide consumption but it appeared that the situation was too far gone to contain anymore. Now I just had to prove to everyone—Bella included—that my intentions were honorable.

The electronic bell sounded, indicating the warm-up period was ending. I shed my warmup suit and pulled my goggles down over my eyes, checking them quickly for any cracks or fractures. I'd learned my lesson and there was always a backup pair sitting a few feet away if I found anything wrong with my goggles right before a race.

But these were fine and I breathed a little sigh of relief. Apparently Jacob didn't find it necessary to sabotage my goggles when we weren't in the same race. Still, I was keeping my eyes peeled, waiting for another one of his tricks, because I had a feeling that he wouldn't try the same thing twice.

And that's when it hit me. The reporters showing up outside our room, right in my hallway, this morning—that hadn't been a coincidence. They hadn't psychically known where to go; they'd been told.

A surge of pure unadulterated rage tempered with hate swelled through me. That _man _had dared to hurt me by involving my Bella. I would take him apart limb by limb. Everything around me had gone red and hazy, and I was sure that if Jacob had been anywhere in my vicinity, nothing could have kept me from killing him. Even about a hundred video cameras trained on my every move.

Of course, like the goggles, it would be difficult if not impossible to prove anything. No doubt the tip had been an anonymous one. Still, that made me even more determined to swim my best today, and to ultimately break the record. Nothing would make Jacob Black angrier than seeing me win the admiration of millions.

The final bell rang and I took a small quick jump into the water. Like always, the world collapsed around me and my focus narrowed to just this pool and my fellow competitors and even Tyler was suddenly no longer a friend, but an enemy to conquer.

I wiggled my toes into the smooth hard concrete of the wall and gripped the inset handles with my hands, feeling the rush of adrenaline wash over me, all the anger that had earlier coalesced deep in my belly becoming simply fuel to the fire.

The prep bell sounded and I lifted myself effortlessly out of the water, poised and ready to spring into action. My ears strained hard to listen for the starter horn and my leg muscles strained and contracted, ready for the moment I'd use them to spring powerfully from the wall.

Suddenly the horn blared through the water, and it only took a split second for me to register the sound before my legs tensed and I pushed off hard from the wall, kicking hard and fast through the water. It was a good start I decided, before settling down to powerfully stroke my arms through the water. I reached toward the far end of the wall with every part of my arms, through my fingertips until with only slightly burning lungs, I executed a perfect turn and came out kicking even harder than when I'd gone into it.

I made it a practice of never checking others' positions relative to my own until after the first turn. I did a quick check to my right and was a little surprised I didn't see anyone, then I looked left and I was confused for just half a second.

Was it possible that I was that far ahead? That nobody was even close? That I was already halfway across the pool and they were all still on the turn? No, it wasn't possible. Tyler was faster than that. He was faster than I was. We both knew it.

He must be really, really far ahead. I felt a sudden surge of disappointment, followed closely by determination. I could catch up. I could catch up to almost anyone if I wanted it enough. And I really, really wanted it.

I burst ahead with speed, my legs kicking hard and fast. I completed another turn, still didn't see anyone, and pushed myself harder, ignoring the burning in my lungs and in my muscles. I had to win. For me. And, more importantly, for Bella.

I finally reached the last turn, and knew that Tyler was probably on world record pace, because I knew I'd never swam this fast in my life, and neither had he.

By the time I was nearly to the wall, I felt like gasping and dying, but I'd conceded it to him because if anyone could really swim that fast, they deserved the Olympic gold.

My fingers finally touched the smooth concrete of the wall and my head broke through the water.

I pushed my goggles up and looked around. I was the only one at the wall. In fact, I was the only one even _near _the wall. Tyler, the next lane over from me, was only halfway across the last length of the pool.

The building seemed to rumble with cheers and screams. It took at least ten seconds before what I'd done hit me. I'd won. By a _lot_. I looked up at the scoreboard and had to blink the water out of my eyes before I could be sure that what I saw wasn't a figment of my imagination.

Not just an Olympic record, but my god, was that _my _time? 1:53.94? That was good couple of seconds faster than I'd ever swum the 200 backstroke before.

It not only broke the world record; it shattered it.

Tyler came in to the wall about then, easily capturing the silver.

"Dude," he panted, "you were on _fire_."

I smiled happily, unable to contain the elation that was surging through me. Tyler held his hand up for a high five and I emitted a yell of triumph.

I didn't swim because I wanted to win, but I sure did love to win.

Five minutes later, I was out on the deck, being interviewed by the primetime coverage reporter. I'd done this drill a million times—all I had to do was say how gratified I was that I'd won, that no, there was not any more pressure on me to break my father's record, blah blah blah.

But this time, she threw a total wrench into the questions.

"So, Edward, tell me about Bella Swan. We all saw the pictures of you two today, and the question everyone wants to know is did you meet here or have you known her longer?"

The reporter extended the microphone forward, and the implication in her question was undeniable. In her opinion and I was sure, in many other people's minds, Bella was simply an Olympic diversion—not someone to take seriously.

I knew I could tell the truth: that I'd met Bella at the Olympics and that she _was _someone I took very seriously indeed, but I knew the press well enough to know that only the first part would be given any credibility whatsoever.

So I smiled straight at the camera and uttered the words that every reporter dreads hearing. "Sorry, Valerie, but I don't comment on my personal life."

She recovered quickly, like the consummate professional she was, but I was already thinking what _action _I could do that would prove to everyone just how much I cared about Bella Swan.

Words, to the media anyway, were ultimately meaningless. I was going to have do something radical and totally out of character to get them to give any kind of real respect to our relationship. It was hard enough, sometimes, to get Bella to feel like she was a legitimate partner for me—we didn't need anyone else giving her that impression.

Finally, the interview was over, and I hurriedly walked away, before Valerie could ask anymore, off-camera, questions about Bella.

I searched through the stands for her as I slowly made my way to the locker room, and prayed that she hadn't already gone back to meet me. _Please_, I thought, _let her have stuck around._

I was lucky; she was standing at the edge of the stadium seating, trying to get my attention. I walked up to her, and grabbed her hand through the railing. She looked a little surprised because up to this point, I'd never been this demonstrative in such a public place with so many cameras about.

"Edward," Bella said, "you were _amazing_. I've never seen you swim like that before."

She was glowing and so beautiful she took my breath away. Nobody wore happiness better than Bella did.

"You want to know a secret?" I whispered in a mock conspiratorial voice. "I had no idea I _could _swim like that."

"Really?" Bella giggled, and I held her captive hand up to my lips and brushed the back of it lightly. She looked at me in surprise again, but little did she know that this was just the beginning of what I had in mind.

"Really," I assured her, "and I know that my swimming today has everything to do with having you next to me last night. Promise me you'll stay over again tonight."

"I don't know," Bella said skeptically, trying to casually reclaim her hand back, but I held firm.

"Bella, please. Say yes."

She hesitated for a moment, and I knew she wasn't just thinking of her answer, but of all the people in the huge building that were all watching us. Pretty much thousands of people and none of them were making it much of a secret. Bella wasn't used to all this attention, but I told myself that it was necessary and that she'd have to try to get used to it—if she wanted to be with me.

"Sure. Yes." Bella's face broke out into a huge smile, and I decided this was the perfect time. I dropped my warmup suit to the ground along with my iPod and slipped my feet out of my flip-flops. I effortlessly climbed up the railing, until my head was even with hers.

"Edward," she hissed, "what _are _you doing?"

"Kissing you," I murmured, right before I took one arm off of the railing and wrapped it around her. I closed the distance between us and unsurprisingly, she didn't resist.

The kiss was long and lingering, and though I usually lost myself in Bella whenever we kissed, I couldn't help but be aware of the thousands watching us—and no doubt the millions who would watch later. They were sure to be taping it to show on the news channels later. I told myself firmly that this was exactly what I had in mind, and to not be afraid of doing what I had to do to get my point across.

Finally Bella pulled away and she looked seriously into my eyes. "Edward, why did you do that?" she asked quietly.

"Did you enjoy it?" I asked, pointedly not answering her question and delaying the inevitable.

"Of course I did," she said, the corner of her lips turning up a bit into a smile. "But you didn't answer my question.

I sighed. "Bella, I want everyone to know you're not just an Olympic fling."

"Aren't I?" she challenged, and fear lanced through me, because her voice was both teasing and serious. I hated the thought that Bella believed I wasn't serious about her.

"You know perfectly well you aren't," I told her firmly, pulling her close again for another quick kiss. "I've got to go cool down. Will I see you back there?"

"Yes," she agreed, but I noticed that her eyes were still guarded, reserved. I hoped again that the action I'd just taken hadn't been too precipitous and hadn't pushed Bella the wrong way.

"I'll see you in a few," I said, climbing down the railing and exiting the swimming area with a full blown round of applause.

* * *

Esme POV

"Carlisle," I counseled, trying to keep my voice calm and even, "you know exactly why he did that. And it's not a bad thing."

"It's distracting," he groused. "He should be focusing on his events."

"He clearly is. Look at how well he swam this morning," I replied, unable to keep the tinge of frustration out of my voice.

"One swim. That was just luck."

Carlisle turned away from me and I knew he was angry not just at Edward for pursing Bella so openly, but also at me for taking his side.

I wanted for Edward what every mother wanted: professional success and a happy personal life. Up until now, he'd had the former in spades, but the latter had been a big empty hole filled up with interviews and media spotlights and an empty apartment and long grueling days at the pool. I wanted to see Edward fall in love and find that final piece that he'd been searching for.

From almost the moment we'd landed in Beijing, I'd known that piece was Bella Swan, and I'd spent hours fruitlessly trying to convert Carlisle to my point of view.

"I just want what's best for him," I told Carlisle's back, hoping that maybe I'd still be able to get through to him.

There was silence. He was looking at something intently in the distance. No. Not the distance. Something only rows away.

It was Bella, leaning over the edge of the seats, over the railing, and she was talking to Edward, who was looking up at her intently.

Unfortunately we were not the only two people staring at them. The whole enormous auditorium was too.

Carlisle was mumbling angrily under his breath, and when Edward climbed up easily to meet Bella and kissed her, the words only grew more vehement.

He turned toward me. "What is he doing?" he exclaimed, ranting. "He is going to ruin everything!"

"No, he knows what he's doing," I soothed. "It's going to be fine."

"The press caught him sneaking her out of his room this morning. You know that and you still try to tell me it's going to be fine?" Carlisle sounded unusually bitter and I was beginning to wonder how much the stress of these Olympic Games was beginning to wear on him. Maybe he was handling all this a lot worse than I'd expected or noticed.

"Well," I began, but Carlisle abruptly stood up. "I'm going to go talk to him," he said, clearly not wanting to hear my thoughts on the subject.

"Wait," I said, raising my voice to get his attention. He turned back toward me and I took a deep breath.

I rarely crossed Carlisle. He'd been in charge of everything that involved Edward and swimming almost since he was born, and I'd never argued a single point with him. But I was not going to see Edward victimized because he'd chosen this time to fall in love.

"No," I told him firmly. "Let him be. He's a smart boy and he's been training his whole life for this. He's hardly going to throw it all away just for a girl. You taught him to handle himself—now let him try."

Carlisle looked surprised at my little speech, but he didn't respond right away. Thankfully though, he sat down in his seat, and had clearly abandoned the idea of going to talk to Edward.

I continued on the offensive. "When you set the record, we were married. I was at the Games with you."

Finally, Carlisle sighed and I knew that sound. He'd given up. Maybe temporarily. Maybe permanently.

"You're right, Esme. You were with me. But it's different."

"Not really. Edward loves her. You loved me. Not so different."

"We'd been married for a year," he argued, and I knew he expected me to defer to his decision, like I always had before. But I had never had a future daughter-in-law to fight for before, and I wasn't going to give up that easily.

"So? Edward is in love with Bella. He'll probably marry her. Marriage has very little do with it. He's happy, and for once in his life, not just because he's winning swimming races. He's happy because he's fallen in love. Let him, Carlisle."

"I could hardly stop him," Carlisle grumbled, and I could sense him weakening and I went in for the kill.

"Let him," I insisted more firmly. "You put up roadblocks every five minutes and half the time I have to prevent you from forbidding him to see her. He's doing incredibly well so far, and he's been setting his own rules with Bella. You've got to learn to trust your own son."

"I just want this so bad for him," he said, his eyes meeting mine and I was used to the intensity that was in them. That same intensity was one of the many reasons I'd fallen in love with Carlisle Cullen so many years ago.

"And he'll get it, if it's meant to be. Bella isn't going to change anything about his swimming. If anything, he seems twice as determined since he met her."

"Just like I was with you," Carlisle said, smiling and reaching for my hand. He laced his fingers through mine and I felt that familiar wave of warm love rise over me. "Thank you, Esme. Again. You ground me. I love you."

"And I love you."


	17. Chapter 17

**AN: This is Tami's chapter. And to clear things up, yes, the relay race in this chapter is the second to the last gold medal race. This will get addressed more at the end of the chapter. She wants everyone to know she's sorry for the delay, but unfortunately she's been out of internet for a week--this chapter's been done for awhile!  
**

* * *

BPOV

I sat in the stands watching Edward prepare for the 4 x 100 Medley Relay. It was the final, and as usual, I was nervous as I watched him stretch and prepare alongside his teammates. He looked towards the stands, found me, and gave me a brief wave and a smile. I waved back, still a bit intimidated by the thousands of people in the Water Cube, and presumably on television, who had watched that particular exchange. The fascination with Edward and me was a new trend, quickly monopolizing any and all down time for reporters during these games. I shuddered to think what the stations might be reporting back home.

I'd panicked yesterday once the news had broken, but Alice had managed to calm me down, and Edward with his very public, passionate display of feeling for me, had managed to calm me even more. With the knowledge that he wanted this as much as I did, at least for the moment, I was able to push the doubts and fears out of my mind and concentrate on the increasing intensity of our relationship.

The silencing of the crowd brought my attention back to the large swimming pool and I watched Edward's teammate Justin jump into the pool, ready to start off the medley with the backstroke. I knew how important this race was, the race that could either make or break Edward's run for his medals. The Spanish team was supposedly the better of the teams with their best times. I only hoped that Edward's teammates could pull this off for him, not only for another gold medal, but also so they could beat Jacob Black yet again. Edward had confided in me that he thought Jacob had something to do with the press being outside the door yesterday morning, although I had my own suspicions.

The buzzer sounded, announcing the beginning of the race, and the swimmers started. I held my breath as Justin was able to keep up with the leaders, and surpass them at the end. Unfortunately, the next swimmer for the US, Edward's teammate Zach was unable to keep up on the breastroke and fell behind to third place. It was Edward's turn. He'd be swimming the butterfly, one of his best swims, and I was shaking from nerves. No matter how many races I watched, I knew this was something I would never get used to.

He dived into the water and began to swim. I leaned over the railing to get a better look. His powerful, measured strokes carried him closer and closer to the leader. At the wall, he was only a few strokes behind the leader as he turned. Somehow, almost impossibly, within the last few strokes he was able to catch up and pass the leader, giving Tyler the few precious seconds that he quite possibly would need to win this race, but I was unsurprised.

While I had watched him swim before, this time was different. This time, I knew the real Edward. I knew him to be so disciplined that he was willing to do anything to make sure he won, knew him to be so determined that nothing would stand in his way if there was something he wanted. He was also a man that could be tough when the situation called for it, but also very tender and romantic with me. His complexity was one of the reasons that I had fallen in love with him so deeply and so quickly. While I had thought I had been in love before, these new, raw emotions I was experiencing made me realize that I hadn't known what love really was.

I bit my lip nervously as Tyler swam against Jacob to hopefully win team USA and Edward another gold medal. Jacob was fast, and supposedly Tyler was no match for him, but I knew that anything could happen at these games and continued to watch with bated breath. Tyler was able to keep up and even gain more of the lead as he came out of his turn at the wall, but Jacob was coming on fast and I began to worry. I realized I was getting dizzy from holding my breath and gasped in some air just as Tyler touched the wall, just ahead of Jacob. He'd done it! Edward would have his gold medal thanks to the amazing teamwork we had just seen.

I looked up and smiled at the picture that Edward made. He was jumping up and down and screaming, more exuberant than I had ever seen him. I knew he had missed out on a lot of the fun things growing up that most people participated in, and seeing him looking so carefree and excited made me even happier that he had won.

I watched him do a couple post race interviews, then headed to the cool down area when he did. I wanted to congratulate him before all the reporters swarmed him. He was standing just inside the door, obviously waiting for me, and grinning from ear to ear. He held out his arms and I jumped in to them. "Congratulations," I said excitedly as he hugged me tightly.

"Thank you," he said amused, "but I think that the winner of a gold medal deserves more than a hug." I caught his meaning immediately and stretched up on my tiptoes as his lips came down to meet mine. We were lost in each other when the clearing of a throat interrupted us. I jerked away and turned in Edward's arms to see Rob standing there, amused.

"I think you should get in the pool now, Edward. There are other reporters waiting for your attention, too," he instructed. I blushed at the speculative look in his eye and stepped back. Rob left the room, at least giving us some privacy.

"I guess I'll see you later," I asked. "I probably need to go watch Rose's final match."

"Will you come stay with me tonight?" he inquired. I nodded and gave him a hug and watched as he dived into the pool. I watched for a moment, then left, hurrying to make it to the volleyball match in time.

As I hurried to where the match was taking place, I felt my phone vibrating in my bag. I retrieved it and looked at the caller id. Ugh. Laurent. Of course he would ruin my day with one of his calls. Sighing, I hit the answer button.

"Bella, how's it going?" Laurent's silky voice asked. I grimaced at his tone.

"Good, I'm planning to work on the story later this afternoon for awhile. I'll send you any rough drafts I come up with," I answered, trying to keep the conversation as short as possible.

"Not so fast Bella," Laurent said as I started to hang up. "I wanted to talk to you about something else." I stubbornly remained silent.

"So, it seems that you really haven't been telling me the truth about your relationship with Mr. Cullen," he said, and I heard the suggestion in his tone. "It seems that you could be including a whole lot more in that article of yours than you're intending."

"My personal relationship with him is off limits for this article. I told you I'd give you a good article, and I will, just as I agreed with the Cullens to do, but I'm writing about what makes Edward the spectacular swimmer he is, how he handles the pressure and expectation, and the type of person he is," I stated hotly, beginning to get worked up.

"Bella, Bella, Bella. Think about this for a minute. This could be the big break you've been waiting for. Think what it could do for your career. An inside story about what being in a relationship with Edward Cullen is like. We could make millions, and you'd definitely make a name for yourself in this business. All I'm asking is for you to put those uppity values of yours aside for a second and become a real journalist," he cajoled in a sickeningly sweet tone.

"I think you're definition of a real journalist is off, but regardless I'll write an article that is good, but not worthy of the trashy tabloids and that will be enough to sell plenty for you," I assured him.

"It seems that you're getting enough material that would fit nicely in those so called trashy tabloids. According to one of Cullen's rivals, you and him are almost too sickening to be around, that he can't seem to keep his hands or his eyes off of you. According to him, he's not surprised the press found out, he's only surprised it took so long. A well placed tip seems to have taken care of that."

"What are you saying, Laurent?" I asked suspiciously, thinking that it couldn't be coincidence that Jacob Black kept showing up wherever we were.

"Just saying that a certain member of the Spanish team has been helping me out with my suspicions, and when an opportunity too good to be true sprang up, I couldn't help myself and may have tipped off a few people in the business," he said with no remorse in his voice. I was disgusted.

"Why would you do such a thing?" I asked appalled.

"Because it sells papers," he explained. "The more people are curious about you and Edward now, the more they'll be willing to spend money just to read the article. Think of the sensation that could cause," he said gleefully. "I haven't been in this business this long and this successfully because I'm nice," he reminded me.

"What makes you think that I won't just quit and go to another paper or magazine with my article," I asked, seething.

"Oh Bella dear, let's be realistic. You won't quit. I gave you the break you needed, and if you're anything at all, you're loyal."

He obviously had a skewed perception of me, because while I was loyal to my friends, I never could be loyal to a snake like him. Perhaps we could sell the article to someone else. I'd discuss it with Edward later, after his last race ended and it wouldn't distract him.

"What, no response?" he asked when I was silent. "Well, I'll let you get back to your wooing. What's on the agenda today? A romantic walk in the park while you get to tell him all the juicy details of his life, or perhaps more kissing for the cameras?" He laughed at his own little joke and hung up before I could reply.

I threw my phone in my bag disgusted and tried to look normal for my friends' sake. They didn't need to worry about me while they were watching Rose make history. I wondered briefly if Emmett had proposed yet, but figured I would have heard about it if he did. Spotting them in my stands, I made my way towards them.

Jasper was pointing his camera at everything, snapping picture after picture. Alice and Emmett were talking excitedly about engagements and wedding plans. He'd obviously showed her the ring and she was already putting herself in charge of the whole operation. I wondered what Rose would have to say about that. They all looked at me as I sat down next to them.

"Hey," I greeted them, "how's Rose? Is she nervous at all?"

"Of course not, it's Rose remember. She's just ready to win that gold," Alice assured me.

"So Bella, how's Edward doing?" Emmett asked slyly, winking at me with a big grin on his face.

I should have expected it, and was of course used to his teasing, but I blushed anyways. "He's fine, excited about the win this morning of course," I said, hoping to drop the subject.

"It was a good race this morning," Emmett agreed, and turned his attention to the starting match, which surprised me. He wasn't usually one to let things go like that. I watched him curiously throughout the whole match. He fidgeted nervously in his seat, raking his hands through his hair repeatedly. I figured he was probably more nervous than usual for Rose because this was a gold medal match. Still, it was uncharacteristic of him and I wondered if something else was going on.

Rose and Tanya wiped out the competition of course, and I was elated for my friend. We were seated in the stands, watching the beginning of the medal ceremony as the names were called when Emmett stood up and began shoving his way through the stands toward the medal podium. I watched open mouthed as the crowd, realizing that it was either get out of the way or be physically moved, parted and let him through, all the way to the bottom of the stands and up to security.

Muscular, weight lifting Emmett, easily pushed his way through the smaller, wimpier Chinese security team and grabbed the microphone out of the Chinese announcers hand, who had stopped speaking and was watching the proceedings in awe. While everyone looked on, he walked up to an equally shocked Rosalie on the medal podium and stopped in front of her. When he began to speak, it was into the microphone and his words were broadcasted throughout the whole stadium. We could watch them both through the big screen. Emmett had quite possibly chosen the most public place in the world to ask her to marry him.

"Rose, I love you. I've been wanting to do this for the longest time, but the time and place weren't right. When I thought of doing this, no place seemed more perfect than here, at the Olympic Games where we met and fell in love in the first place." He knelt down in front of her and I could see the realization dawn on her face as tears formed in her eyes. "I can't imagine my life without you, without waking up with you in the morning, and going to bed with you at night. I want to spend forever with you. Will you marry me?" he asked, and I saw his hands shake as he pulled out a ring box and opened it up.

Rose gasped, and predictably threw herself into his arms shouting out her answer to everyone. Of course it was yes. I was excited for my friends and watched as Emmett stood on the sidelines for the rest of the ceremony and Rose beamed happily from the podium. They were perfect for each other, and I couldn't wait to congratulate them.

Seeing them together made me want to get back to Edward, to spend as much time with him as I could. I knew I loved him, powerfully and irrevocably, and I was beginning to suspect that he shared at least a little of the same emotions for me, but I didn't know how long it could last. There were just so many complications facing us once the games ended and we went back to our very separate, very different lives. It made me want to live in the moment with him even more.

"Edward, it's not funny," I giggled as he laughed at my story. I'd been sharing some of my more spectacular clumsy Bella moments and could tell he was getting a kick out of them. Somehow, I was able to sneak back into his room even after being outed by the press. The security had looked at my fake athlete's pass with secret smiles and waved me on through, even though I was absolutely sure they knew who I was and that I was no athlete. Currently we were lying on Edward's bed, snuggled close as we told stories about our lives.

"Don't you have any embarrassing moments at all?" I asked after he stopped laughing.

"We-ell, there actually is," he said and I waited in anticipation. "There was this time that a whole tray of drinks was spilled on me on an airplane and the stewardess about mauled me trying to clean it up. Funny, that was when I met you. Before that, nothing," he flashed a teasing grin at me.

"Ha, ha ha," I said sarcastically, "very funny." He grinned at my expression and hugged me close. "Really, I do have one," he mentioned casually. "When I was 14, I decided I hated my hair color. It is quite unusual, you know, and most of the other boys on my swim team had blonde hair. Even my dad has blonde hair, and you know how much I've always wanted to be like him. So, I did my research, and one day got out the bottle of peroxide and dumped it over my head since I knew my mom would never agree to take me to the salon. She loves my hair. I'm sure you can imagine the results, peroxide on reddish colored hair. It did not go over well and my hair turned a sickly green color. My mom freaked when she got home and of course we ended up going to the salon anyways. They couldn't fix it though, every time they tried to change the color it got worse. Finally, they ended up shaving off my hair and I do not look good with a bald head. The team found out what happened and teased me endlessly. That was certainly the end of my longing for blonde hair, at least."

I laughed at him and ran my fingers through his hair. "I can't believe you wanted to change this hair. I love it," I told him as I continued to play with it.

"Hmm," he growled in my ear, "but I didn't know you back then, so I didn't have any reason to keep my hair the way it was."

We were both silent for a while, both reflecting on the silly stories we'd shared. Finally, I broke the silence. "So, Edward," I asked curiously, "what's in store for you after you get that sixth gold medal around your neck tomorrow? Obviously more swimming, and more competitions, but I'm wondering what comes after swimming for you? Do you plan on coaching like your dad, or something else?"

I was surprised by how still Edward had gone. He stiffened next to me, and I sat up to look at him. The expression on his face was torn and something was obviously wrong. "Edward," I asked, shocked at his reaction, "are you okay?"

"Bella," he said quietly, "there's something I need to talk to you about."

"What is it, Edward," I asked gently, sensing that there really was something bothering him.

"I don't know if I am going to win tomorrow," he stated, and I looked at him in confusion.

"Of course you're going to win, Edward. This is your best event, and even your rivals have admitted that no one can beat you at it," I assured him.

"It's not that, Bella. I didn't say that I don't think I can win, it's that I don't know if I should."

"I'm...confused," I said, trying my best to figure out what he was telling me. "You're saying that you don't want to win the last gold medal for some reason?"

"It's not that I don't want to win it, because I do, but part of me rebels at the thought. It seems . . . wrong somehow. Like I don't deserve it in some way," he explained.

"But Edward," I exclaimed vehemently, "of course you deserve it! You've worked so hard, given up so much to get where you are today! I don't think that anyone can say that you haven't given swimming your all!"

"No, that's not what I'm saying. I know I've worked hard and from that standpoint deserve it, but not from the standpoint of the person I am. My father's the greatest person I know, right?" he asked, and I nodded, starting to see where this was headed. "Even he couldn't win that many golds, but he did set his own record, one that has lasted for over 20 years, and now I feel it would be a great dishonor to him if someone broke it, especially his own son!"

I was dumbfounded. I couldn't believe what he was telling me. And just how wrong he was in his thinking. Finally, I realized I'd been silent too long and knew that I had to say something.

"Edward, you know that's not true! While your dad didn't win that many golds, I don't think he even went for that many, he still is a legend and just because you broke it, he won't be forgotten. It's bound to happen sometime, and I'm sure your father desperately wants it to be you that breaks it. He's trained you, stood by you, and he'll be ecstatic when you win!"

"But Bella, my father is a great man, and me...I don't even know if I'm that good. I can swim, but that's all there is to me. By my age, my father had accomplished so much more, and he even did it with a family. Why would I deserve to break the record he set facing impossible odds?" he asked.

"Because you're facing impossible odds too, Edward!" I exclaimed, frustrated. "Listen to me. I don't know your father very well, but I do know him well enough to say that he wants you to win it tomorrow, that he's rooting for you in every way. Any loving father wants success for their child, especially when they've worked so hard and long at helping you achieve your dreams. I'm sure your father is not any different. Watch him tomorrow, Edward! Watch his face when you win that final gold and see how proud he is of you, how happy you've made him. I'm sure he doesn't care if you break his record, what he cares about is you. I've watched how concerned he is with you, how dedicated he is to you. Don't let all his hard work go to waste. I'm willing to bet that he wants you to win tomorrow more than he even wanted to win his last gold medal. Although I'm not a parent, and can't say for sure, I'm almost positive that watching your own child achieve greatness is better than anything a parent has ever done or will do themselves."

"Maybe you're right," he sighed pulling me close, "but I just don't know yet. I just don't want to do the wrong thing."

"I trust you to do what's right, Edward. I want you to know, though, that whatever you decide, I'm proud of you and will be cheering for you during the whole race tomorrow and will be waiting for you at the finish," I assured him. I snuggled in close to him and listened to the sound of his even breathing, hoping and praying that my words had gotten through to him and he'd finally realize what a great man he was and accomplish what he'd been dreaming of his whole life. Surprisingly, I was able to fall asleep quickly, even with everything that was going through my mind.


	18. Chapter 18

**AN: This is a HUGE chapter, bbs. Not exactly in size, but in importance. I suppose we could call this the "climax" of the story hehehehe.**

**Couple of things. I (bethaboo) have started a new story called EVE, THE APPLE OF MY EYE. Check it out.**

**Also, you should all read Feathers-mmmm's story I LOVE LA, if you haven't already. It's freaking fantastic!  
**

* * *

EPOV

Bella's words from the night before resonated in my mind as I took to the starting blocks for the final race.

I'd spent every waking second this morning trying to come to some sort of decision, but instead, all the thinking had done was make me more conflicted than ever. I knew that Carlisle would _want _me to win this race—he wouldn't have spent all these years slaving over my training, my diet and my future if he hadn't wanted them to come to this.

Yet, the feeling that I didn't _deserve _to beat Carlisle's record wouldn't go away. Right now we were tied, and I felt closer to him than I'd ever felt before. I understood, finally, what all this was about, but at the same time, I didn't feel like I deserved more.

Carlisle was the best man I knew. To me, breaking the record today would equal becoming somehow better than him, and this, to me, was so blatantly false that I couldn't bear the thought of doing it.

As I took my place on the starting block, I glanced around the Water Cube and wasn't surprised to see the whole arena erupting into hysterical excitement.

I should have been thrilled for this moment. I should have felt like my life finally made sense. But I just felt cold and empty and totally unsure as to what I should do.

I glanced up at Bella in the crowds, and wasn't surprised to see her looking exceeding uncomfortable. It was unclear if that was because she was nervous for me—after all, she was the only one who I'd confided my doubts too; the rest of the arena all expected me to win with flying colors—or if her now close proximity to Carlisle and Esme was making her uneasy. The networks had decided, unsurprisingly, that Bella was a "story" too, and had reseated her next to my parents.

Bella was all scrunched up in the corner of her seat, as far away as she could possible get from Carlisle, no doubt afraid that there would be some sort of lecture about her being a distraction, but her eyes were glued to mine. I'm sure she thought she could maybe convince me through her nonexistent telepathic powers.

But I'd already made up my mind. In fact, the decision seemed easy, standing on the blocks, like they were the top of the world, looking at my dad in the stands. I knew then that I could never break his record.

Peace fell over me, and when the start sound echoed through my head, I leapt clean and smoothly into the water, and kicked off hard before carefully letting myself slow.

I'd tried to win a lot of races before this moment, but never before had I tried to lose on purpose.

Halfway across the pool, keeping a good eye out for my competitors and just hanging back in second, I remembered.

This wasn't the only time I'd tried to lose. I'd done it once before. With my dad.

I'd been 14 years old, and after practice one day, Carlisle had jokingly said that he'd tired me out so much that he could probably beat me now. Even though he was nearing forty, Carlisle was still in fantastic shape and did hundreds of laps a week. Nothing competitive of course, but I knew how fast he was. Still, despite the hardcore workout, I knew I was still faster, but I'd seen a flare of that competitive spirit in his eyes and I'd been so excited to see it that I'd known I'd have to lose.

We'd gone neck and neck the whole medley, but on the last fifty meters, I'd pretended to run out of steam.

Carlisle won, we got out of the pool, and the whole ride home we'd been silent. When we pulled up to the house, he'd placed a hand on my arm, and looked me straight in the eyes.

"Never," he'd said, "have that kind of sympathy on an opponent. If you're the best, then swim the best."

As I hit the first turn, I pondered the memory. No doubt that me losing today would crush him. Maybe Bella was right.

No, I insisted to myself. This wasn't about Carlisle and his expectations. This was about Carlisle being the best swimmer in the world—he deserved to stay that way.

But then like karma, I remembered Esme's reaction to our little race so long ago. She'd laughed and pulled me close in a hug, my head towering above her, even then.

"Edward," she's whispered in my ear, "you _are _your dad's greatest legacy. Don't forget that."

And then I realized, I _had _forgotten.

We were Cullens, so that meant we swam. My father, and his father before him. There was a legacy, and like Carlisle had bellowed every day for ten years, records are meant to be broken.

I turned again, and realized I only had a pool length to catch up to Jacob Black and there was no way I could let him win and tarnish my dad's legacy. If I won today, Carlisle wouldn't be forgotten. In fact, if I won today, it would probably mean that he would _never _be forgotten. Not only had he achieved the pinnacle of success himself, but he'd driven me to do the same. I would not be here without his sacrifice and his drive and his training.

I reached down into my reserves, and pushed harder.

My arms cut through the water like a hot knife through butter, but as we neared the end of the race, the intensity and speed of the strokes were causing a not-insignificant amount of pain. My lungs burned as the time I was able to breath out of the water decreased as my speed increased.

I wanted it. I wanted the gold medal so badly I could already feel it around my neck. Why had I ever thought it wouldn't matter? It mattered more than anything else--almost.

My finger tips hit the wall, finally. I looked up, not towards the all-important scoreboard, but instead, toward the watching crowd, and a certain pair of supportive, brown eyes. . .

Bella was screaming and on her feet, her face filled with joy. I'd never loved her more than in this moment. I'd wanted to learn of my victory from her, not from some meaningless piece of plastic, and her expression said it at all.

It was a day for light bulbs. I realized that without Bella, every victory was meaningless. She might not know it yet, but I was never going to let her go.

Tonight would be only the first step in the plan to make her mine forever.

When the photographers captured my victory smile, they probably thought the pure happiness in my eyes was because of the race; none of them knew that the biggest honor I could ever have, besides following my father's footsteps, was being Bella's man.

The interviews and necessary formalities seemed to last forever. Bella and I seemed to pass each other like ships in the night, only able to exchange a smile or a knowing look. I loved the way she blushed briefly and looked at me hotly from under her eyelashes whenever my gaze fell on her. Though we hadn't discussed it, I thought we both knew the direction this evening was going to take and truth be told, I couldn't wait a second longer.

It had been nearly agony to have to wait even this long to touch her the way I wanted to, but if Bella wanted to postpone, I'd gladly and gratefully just lie next to her, almost content to breathe the same air as her.

Really, it was certifiable: I had totally lost my mind and my heart to a _reporter_. Bella glanced over my way again and I couldn't help but beam at her and totally lose track of what I was saying to the interviewer in front of me.

"I see you're quite happy with Bella Swan," she laughed, looking the tiniest bit jealous.

"Unbelievably so," I reassured her. "I know that everyone will think that my greatest prize at these Beijing Olympic Games are the six gold medals. But really, Bella is the most amazing prize any man could hope to win."

"She's a lucky girl," the reporter said and her voice was wistful. I wanted to tell her—really all of them—that Bella had captured me without even trying. Unlike them, who had thrown themselves at me at all hours of the day and night. They could really take a page out of her book.

"And," she continued, "how do you feel about breaking your father's record?"

"I'm incredibly honored, of course. Carlisle Cullen is the greatest swimmer of our century. I consider myself fortunate to be mentioned in the same breath as him."

The camera light switched from green to red, and I sighed. Each one of these interviews was monotonously the same, and I was so ready to be done with them. But Carlisle and Rob had their agreements with the networks, and I could not bear to let either of them down on my greatest night.

Finally, after several more interviews—and I think Bella gave even more than I did—the press began to retreat, and I could go over to Bella's side and interrupted, pull her close to me.

"You'll meet at the room later?" I asked her, dropping a single kiss on her upturned nose. I had never seen her look so happy—she was nearly glowing with pride at my accomplishments and I was nearly glowing with pride that she was mine and that I'd struck my claim in front of every television in the world.

"Yes," she told me with a coy tone. "You know I wouldn't miss it for the world."

I pulled her a little closer, and murmured into her hair, which was the sweetest thing I'd ever smelled, "Bells, what is it you don't want to miss?"

She pulled away from me a little and I saw this tiny secret smile spread over her gorgeous lips. "Wouldn't you like to know?" she asked and walked away, her hips swinging in this confident, incredibly sexy way.

"I'll see you tonight," she called over her shoulder, and I stood there, slack-jawed as she walked away.

It was truly amazing how I could win six gold medals at a single Olympic Games but Bella could bring me to my knees with just a few words and the smell of her hair.

We'd agreed to meet in my room at 7 PM. By 6:30, I was a wreck.

Despite Bella's words earlier, I was having second thoughts about if she really wanted to take this monumental step in our relationship. I didn't want to do or plan anything she wouldn't be comfortable with.

Unfortunately it was a little late to take back all the planning that I'd done.

I sat down at the couch in front of the door and found it decidedly odd that I was more nervous now than I'd been seconds before I'd dove into the water to win my sixth gold medal. Of course the adrenaline had been flowing through my veins and I'd just decided that I didn't want it but still. Nothing made me higher than Bella did.

Only five minutes into staring relentlessly at the door, willing it to knock early, it actually did causing me to jump, almost fall off the couch and then actually fall over the couch in my eagerness to get to the door as fast as possible.

I groaned from the floor and if I'd been a cartoon I wouldn't have been surprised to see little birds flying in a halo around my head. Gingerly I moved my legs and willed the room to stop spinning. I needed to get to the door and well, Carlisle would _kill _me if I'd broken a bone.

And then I realized. It didn't matter if I _had _broken my arm or my collarbone or my leg—there were no other races to swim. The only reason it would matter is if I couldn't perform tonight and as long as my lips and my tongue and my hands and my cock were all in working order. Any other injuries and I could still manage.

I managed to pick myself up from the floor and hobbled to the door, and pulled the door open only to see Bella dressed in a knockout black satin skintight dress.

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, and managed to regain use of my vocal cords thankfully after only a few seconds of staring, slackjawed, at Bella's dress. And well, at Bella herself.

Bella who looked stunning just in a t-shirt and jeans, was looking rather self-conscious in her dress and heels.

"Bella," I told her rather reverently, "you look absolutely gorgeous tonight."

"You're dressed up too," she said, and gestured at my black slacks and navy blue dress shirt. Her eyes were glued to me and I took a step towards her.

"So beautiful," I murmured, brushing the back of my hand over her cheek, and bringing her lips up to meet mine. We kissed, slowly, and the world around us fell away. Finally, I had to pull away from her incredible lush mouth or we were never going to leave the apartment and make it to dinner. I personally would much rather have skipped the formalities and headed straight to bed, but with Bella, I wanted to do things right. I wanted to romance her, and so on went my suit jacket, even though her lips had turned down in a small pout.

"Do we have to go?" she asked hesitantly, and I wanted nothing more than to tell her that no, we didn't have to go. But I shook my head instead.

"We really should, Bella. I'd love to celebrate with you."

"But all the press," she trailed off, and I wondered suddenly if her uncertainty stemmed from wanting to stay here with just me or if she just wanted to avoid the photographers.

I'd been hoping that with some adjustment time the cameras would just kind of fade into the background for her, but maybe that was a foolish wish. Maybe this life in the spotlight wasn't what Bella wanted at all.

"You look sad," she said, with a tinge of worry in her voice.

I smiled warmly at her. "Oh, no. I'm fine. What on earth would I have to be sorry about?"

Bella couldn't exactly argue with that one, and we left the room, and took the elevator downstairs.

I'd made us reservations in the nicest restaurant near the Olympic Village, and in deference to Bella's feet, though it was only a few blocks away, I hailed a taxi as soon as we were through the security checkpoint.

She protested, of course, but I insisted. For Bella, no expense would be spared, no small detail overlooked. She was going to be my wife, and I wanted to do whatever I could to make her happy.

The dinner was nice, and free of _most _of the photographers that seemed to follow us around like flies around a bright light bulb, but the whole time all I could think of was pushing Bella's hair to the side, pressing my lips to her neck and slowly lowering the zipper down the back of her dress.

I had to shake myself out of the fantasy more than once, and it got to the point where Bella was nearly choking back her laughter when I spaced out. I had a feeling she knew _exactly _what I was thinking about. All in all, it was not exactly the romantic, sweet, heartfelt dinner I'd had in mind—and it had been pretty quick as well, with neither of us lingering over our food.

Both of us, I knew, wanted to get back to my room.

I quickly paid the check, and we were back on the street scarcely forty-five minutes after leaving my room.

Raising my hand, I started to hail a taxi, but Bella's hands closed over my arm.

"Don't," she said quietly. "Let's walk back."

"You're sure?" I asked her.

"Yeah. We should talk."

"We can talk when we get back to my room," I volunteered, but Bella gave me a hard look and started laughing.

"You don't mean that, and we both know it," she said more than a little coyly. "There's going to be very little _talking _going on when we get back to your room."

Bella had again rendered me speechless, and I had to admit that seeing her take and be in control was one of the sexiest things I had ever seen.

Maybe even sexier than that black dress she was wearing. It was a really tough call and I was going to have to ponder it while we walked back to the Olympic Village.

"Earth to Edward!" Bella yelled, laughing, and I looked up from the pavement into her mischievous and sparkling eyes.

"Oh sorry," I apologized. "I was just thinking about our swimming lesson and how I'd like to do it again. Except with you in that dress."

"Edward!" she exclaimed in a mock-offended voice, slapping my arm playfully. "You are so bad. Alice would kill me if I got this dress wet."

I stopped suddenly and pulled her tight against me, letting my hands rest low on her back, almost touching her gloriously curved ass. "Bella," I said rather seriously, but she pulled away.

"Edward," she lectured, "let's get back to the room _now_."

She didn't have to tell me twice. We were back in five minutes of fast walking, and I was kind of astonished how quick of a pace Bella had managed to set while wearing the heels.

I'd been wanting to ask Bella how much experience she had, but I couldn't manage to think of a polite, non-asshole way to bring it up, so I was still in the dark. I'd wanted to ask during dinner, but hadn't come up with a good opening. I'd wanted to ask on the way back, but maybe, finally, Bella had given me an answer without me asking the question.

Surely a woman with little sexual experience or a virgin wouldn't be eager to get back to my room and start certain activities. And Bella herself had been undeniably clear that was what she expected to have happen the moment we returned to my suite.

The frat boy was pounding on my brain unbelievably hard, trying to get me to relinquish some of my ingrained gentlemanly behavior, but this time between us had to be as perfect as I could make it. Obviously our first time couldn't be earth-shattering, but I wanted it to be good as possible.

I'd been doing lots of "solo" practice in the shower for tonight, and I felt mostly in control as I took a shaky breath and slid the key card through the detector. The light blinked green and I opened the door into my suite.

"Will Tyler be coming back tonight?" Bella asked, and I wanted to kick myself for not putting her at ease with this subject earlier. She had to know we had all the time in the world, that there was no way I'd rush her.

"Definitely not," I told Bella, wrapping my arms around her, loving the way the satin of her dress molded over her curves. "I confiscated his key card even. He couldn't get in even if he wanted to."

Bella giggled, no doubt amused at the lengths I'd gone to make sure we had privacy, but I frowned. "It's important to me, Bella, that nobody bother us."

She slipped out of my grasp, intertwining our fingers together and pulling me towards the bedroom. I really liked this Bella of action, but I couldn't figure out why I seemed rooted to the spot with nerves.

"Edward? What's wrong?" Bella frowned and I hated that pucker that formed between her eyebrows. If I could love her enough, it would never show up.

I shrugged. "Nothing at all, sweetheart. I'm just so happy to be here with you."

The corner of her mouth twitched into a smile. "You are such a liar."

"I am not!" I defended hotly.

Bella walked back towards me, wrapped her arms around my waist, and looked up at me, her brown eyes glowing with confidence.

"If," she drawled, "you don't get back to the bedroom within five seconds, I swear I am going to strip you on the spot."

"Uh," I stammered, not sure what to make of this new, in-control Bella.

"How much plainer can I make it?" she asked, spreading her arms in appeal. "I want you; do you want me too?"

Her words released me from my nameless fear. She _did _want me. She was ready to take this step. I felt like a total tool for not being able to form the sentences to ask her, but she had finally taken that out of my hands by telling me what I needed to hear.

"Thank you, Bella," I told her, kissing her. "I _do _want you. I just. . .I needed to hear that."

"Did you think I didn't feel that way?" she asked rather incredulously.

"I thought you probably did, but I have to say, it feels amazing to hear it from your lips."

"I want you to tell me too," Bella whispered, "but I want you to tell me when we're actually in your bedroom." She abruptly moved away and went flouncing away, as best as she could in the high heels she was wearing.

This time I had seen just a tiny glimmer of doubt in Bella's brown eyes, and I had feeling that this was all a big act. Sure I liked it, but I was ready to march into the bedroom and take the control back. I _needed _to take it back.

When I appeared in the doorway, Bella was already reclining on the bed, kicking her high heels off. She looked exquisite and the frat boy crowed that she was all his.

I pulled the lighter from where I'd stowed it on a shelf by the door and began going around the room, lighting the candles I'd set out earlier this afternoon.

I turned off the lights and we were suddenly bathed in the golden glow of candlelight.

The way that Bella's eyes beamed up at me from the bed told me that the difficulty I'd gone to in order to find the candles had totally been worth it.

"Turn over," I murmured, my voice suddenly growing deeper and I could even hear the lust in it.

Apparently Bella did, because she did as I told her, without a single word.

I quickly shed my shoes and socks and untucked my shirt before joining Bella on the bed. Her eyes were closed and her face was half-obscured by the pillow. I smoothed her hair away from her neck and placed my lips at the soft nape. She shivered a little involuntarily and I smoothed one hand up her leg, reveling in the softness of her skin.

She was trembling now, and I bent down, my lips brushing her ear. "Are you nervous, Bella?"

She shook her head. "No," she whispered into the coverlet, "I just want you so much."

Again, I was floored by this woman. She was shaking not because she was nervous, but because of how much she wanted me.

My hand closed again on her leg, just above her knee, and my thumb brushed upwards, nearly touching the inside of her thigh. I returned my attention to her dress, and carefully began to unzip it the same way I'd dreamt of in the restaurant, and well, from the first time I'd caught a glimpse of that incredibly long, sexy zipper. I kissed my way down her spine as I unzipped it, and Bella tensed every time my lips brushed her skin.

Finally, I reached the bottom of the zipper, just above Bella's ass, and I glanced upwards, drinking in the wedge of pale skin I'd uncovered. It was then I realized that she wasn't wearing a bra. With how tight the dress was, I supposed I wasn't that surprised, but the fact caused me to get even harder.

My hands slipped around her waist, and I discovered another interesting piece of information: Bella was not wearing any underwear either. My fingertips must have stilled at this discovery because I heard her chuckling a little into the pillow.

"Commando, my dear?" I asked teasingly.

"Alice said no lines. . .she also said you'd appreciate it."

"Oh I do," I reassured her. "Believe me, you're about to find out just how much I _do _appreciate the gesture. . ."

I gently began to turn her over, watching as the wide straps of the dress began to slide over her creamy shoulders.

Bella's hands reached up and began to unbutton my shirt, just as eager to see me as I was to see her. My lips captured hers and we kissed in passionate earnest. I slid the dress off her shoulders, and covered her with my hands, loving the satin sleekness of her skin.

With our combined expertise, we managed to get my shirt off and her hands immediately fell onto my chest, and I laughed quietly. "So eager?" I asked.

"You know I am," she said between gasps, as I cupped her breasts in my palms.

"And you should know I'm going to take my time," I promised her, letting my lips cruise down the column of her neck and further until I took a nipple into my mouth. I pushed the rest of her dress down as she moaned.

"Feels so good," she whimpered mindlessly, and I shed my pants as quickly as I could, joining her completely on the bed, with just my boxers between us.

"Good," I hissed as her hands found my impossibly hard cock and closed over me.

I kissed her again, loving how we felt together, skin to skin, and I knew I had to have her soon. Bella was panting in pleasure, as I slid a hand up her inner thigh, teasing the sensitive skin there with quick brushes. The heat of her was incredibly searing and I knew before I even placed a finger on her that she would be wet and ready. The way her bucks toward me told me everything I needed to know.

"Edward," she panted, "I want you _now_." She executed some brilliant twisting maneuver on my dick and I was nearly finished on the spot.

My thoughts were now definitely moving in that direction too.

I slid a finger inside her, and was floored by how hot and wet she was. I had to close my eyes and count to five, so I wouldn't be undone by both her body and my own traitorous cock.

She pushed my boxers down and her bare hands on me was the last straw. In one quick motion, I slid them down my legs and flung them on the floor.

Sliding up her leg with my hand, I hitched it on my hip and sank into her.

"Holy hell," I moaned with one strangled breath, kissing her hard. She arched up into me and the expression on her face said it all.

I slid the rest of the way into her soft warmth and knew that unfortunately this was not going to last as long as I wanted it to. Bella just fell too damn good—who even knew that being inside someone you loved felt so incredibly earth-shatteringly different?

"Edward," she moaned. "_Please_." I knew she needed it as much as I did, and so I continued to stroke in and out of her, forcing myself to stay focused on the rhythm, other than how utterly amazing she felt.

Faster than I ever imagined, Bella ground hard against me and let out a sudden scream. I could feel her pulsing around me, and with a similar shout of triumph, I emptied myself into her.

My head fell into the pillow and a curtain of Bella's hair. She giggled in delight, and I couldn't help but echo the sentiment. Despite all my worries, our first time had been kind of incandescent.

I thought of what I had stored away in my bedside table, and I wondered if maybe this, in the aftermath of that incredible, sensual experience, was the right time to ask her.

Smoothing her hair from her face, I settled next to her, and kissed her lightly. "Bella," I said trying to make my voice serious, but definitely not too serious. Not scary serious. "I have something I need to ask you."

I reached around the table and discreetly as possible opened the drawer and took the black velvet box out. It was now or never; I had decided. Right now, in the exquisite wake, I was going to ask her.

Her eyes looked up at me, trusting and filled with utter confidence in me. I loved her so much.

"I love you," I murmured and a single tear leaked out of the corner of her eye. "Hey, no tears," I chuckled a little.

"I'm happy," she said with a watery edge to her voice. "I love you too, Edward. So very much. This time in Beijing has been more than I ever could have dreamed of."

"I want it to be special for you. Special for us. Bella," I said, placing the box in front of her and opening the lid to reveal the diamond solitaire I'd picked out, "will you do me the incredible honor of being my wife?"

Her jaw dropped and I saw a flurry of emotions race across her face. I saw happiness, sadness, regret, and lastly, confusion. She didn't know what to say. Her eyes dropped and I felt my heart drop into my stomach with them.

"Is it too fast, Bella?" I asked, lifting her chin with my fingers and looking straight into those ever-so-honest eyes.

She nodded just a little and she relaxed a tiny bit. But I didn't miss that she hadn't relaxed all the way. Her muscles were still incredibly tense.

Obviously it had been the wrong time to ask. I felt like a total idiot and I would give all my medals back if only I could take back my precipitous words.

"Please, Edward," Bella pleaded. "Don't be angry. . .I'm just not ready yet. I need more time."

I shrugged my shoulders and knew that I could never deny her anything. "Of course, Bella. I'm sorry I pressured you." I closed the box and returned it to the drawer before I had to look at it one second longer.

I leaned back in the bed and closed my eyes, wishing I could sink through the earth and disappear forever. I supposed I hadn't even considered the possibility that Bella wasn't as ready to marry me as I was to marry her, but I understood now that I thought about it. Bella, when she joined my life to hers, was going to be getting a media circus and a lot more attention than she was used to getting. It would take more getting used to before she was maybe ready to commit to a lifetime of that.

"Let's not think about it," I said, and clasped her hands with my own. "I know something," I told her teasingly, "that we could do to take your mind off of it."

"Oh?" Bella arched one eyebrow and looked at me skeptically. "Let's see you try."


	19. Chapter 19

**AN: This chapter, the first since chapter 1, is one that Tami and I collaborated on directly. She has taken BPOV and I've taken EPOV, as usual. Couple of details. First, there is a small quote from chapter 1, in here, when they first meet. Yes, I am plagiarizing my own work. Second, the italics in the latter part of what Edward is reading, if you get confused.**

**Thanks to TheEdwardEmmett for being so supportive. Check out his story, TWICON SEDUCTION (link on my profile).**

* * *

BPOV

I laid my head down on Edward's chest again, snuggling closer to him, savoring the moment. I knew it wasn't going to last. My decision was made, had been for at least an hour. I just needed to get my body and heart to go along with my mind.

I'd been able to ignore the churning of emotions I was experiencing since Alice had calmed me after the press found out about Edward and I; to push the doubts out of my mind and concentrate on being there for him and cheering him on as he became the greatest Olympian ever. But the minute he'd proposed to me, they'd all come rushing back. I believed Edward when he said he loved me and I knew that he cared about me deeply. Perhaps I would have said yes immediately despite how quickly everything had happened if there wasn't so many more things bothering me. I couldn't deny to myself that I was in love with him, that I didn't know how I was going to live without him, but I knew it had to be done.

We came from two very different lives. My life was quite simple, a journalist trying to prove herself in a cutthroat business, nothing really exciting or spectacular there. Then I'd met Edward. His life was anything but ordinary, filled with strenuous workouts, swim meets, press interviews, and features on covers of magazines. I didn't know how I would ever fit in, or get used to it. While I was sure that I would be able to deal with the press, at least for awhile, I also wondered what would happen once we had children. Would our children be sucked into the madness that was Edward's life? Would they be expected to be a swimming prodigy at an early age, or followed by the press for their every accomplishment? And what if a child of ours took after me, possibly the clumsiest human ever to walk the face of the earth? Poor, poor child.

Despite all that, I could deal with it. Who knew if we could even have children, and the press could be dealt with. Maybe they'd even fade away after awhile, only to return during the big competitions. What really frightened me was what was going to happen when Edward finally realized how different we were, when the stress of the Olympics died down and everything returned to normal. We'd go back to our normal lives—Edward to his invitations for glamorous events and propositions from glamorous women, and he'd realize that maybe he could do better than me, that he could find someone that fit him and his lifestyle better. I couldn't help but think that our relationship had developed so quickly, in a stressful, pressure filled environment where emotions could snowball rapidly. I worried that once he was back to his life, he'd realize that I wasn't what he wanted, and I'd be devastated. It was better to cut my losses now and make the decision to leave on my own, rather than be hurt even worse a few months down the road. Edward might be crushed at first, but he would soon come to know that we would never have worked out.

So, I had to go, now before he woke up. If he asked me to stay, I knew that I would never have the willpower to deny him. I wiggled out of his arms, relying on his famous ability to sleep through anything. He grunted and turned over in his sleep and I paused, before looking around for my clothes. I pulled my clothes on and shoes, then looked around. Spying Edward's t-shirt hanging on a chair, I grabbed it. I knew I was technically stealing, but I didn't care. I needed something of his to keep with me through what I knew was going to be some very long nights ahead. Spying a small notepad and pen I wrote a simple goodbye.

_I'm sorry._

_Bella_

I took one last look at him sprawled on the bed and my heart twisted. I wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed with him, wake him up, and shout yes to his proposal. Instead I turned away, brushing tears out of my eyes as I tiptoed out the door.

By the time I reached my hotel room, I was incoherently sobbing. Somehow I wasn't surprised to see Alice standing outside my door, a look of pity and disappointment on her face. Instead of lecturing me like I knew she wanted to, she folded me in her arms and comforted me while my heart broke. When I finally calmed down enough to talk, she led me to sit on the bed and stood in front of me. "What happened?" she asked, and despite my resolve to stop crying, new tears welled up in my eyes.

"I left. It wouldn't have worked between us and I had to stop it now before it was even harder to say goodbye," I wailed. Alice nodded, but kept to herself whatever it was she wanted to say.

"I'm sorry," she finally answered, "I think he's perfect for you personally, but ultimately the decision if up to you."

"I need to change my ticket. Now. Today. I can't stay in this city another minute," I finally said.

"I'll arrange it with the airlines. Jasper and I will come too, if you want. Why don't you change your clothes and pack?" Alice directed, and I sighed in relief.

"You don't have to come too, Alice. You and Jasper enjoy the last few days you have here. I'll be fine," I assured her. Really, I just wanted to be alone.

She studied my expression, finally realizing I was determined and nodded her agreement. "We'll drop you off at the airport"

Two hours later, I was on my way to the airport. I'd showered and changed my clothes, but I knew I looked awful. I felt as if I was leaving a part of me behind, something I wouldn't have thought possible in a week's time. _It's better this way, _I reminded myself, refusing to allow my resolve to weaken. Alice and Jasper both hugged me at the gate telling me to call as soon as I got home. I nodded and walked away, not wanting to say anything for fear I'd start crying again. I was determined to hold myself together, at least until I got to my apartment and away from the world.

* * *

It had been four days. Four days since I'd taken that last look at Edward Cullen and walked out of his life. I alternated between regret for my actions and anger at myself for falling so hard for him. Why did I ever let myself get that close to him when I'd known all along it would end in heartache? I knew the reason for that. He was utterly irresistible and drew me like a moth to a flame. After holing myself up in my apartment since the return and shutting off my phone to the outside world, I'd descended into a depression the depths of which I hadn't thought were possible. I didn't care about eating, showering, dressing. Instead, I just sat in numb silence day after day.

It was time for a change. Time to come out of my hole and face the world once again. This was my decision after all, and I had a job to quit and a phenomenal article to write. I'd contacted _Time Magazine_ and they'd agreed to buy my story. Now I had to get it written and it had to be perfect. I owed Edward that much. But first, it was time to pay a visit to Laurent. I took a long shower, applied more makeup than usual to cover up the lack of sleep I'd been getting, and dressed in my best girl power suit. I was ready.

I drove over to work and marched determinedly into Laurent's office. He was sitting at his desk talking on the phone and he raised his eyebrows at my entrance, an annoying smirk on his face. I folded my arms and tapped my toe, doing my best impression of an impatient Rose, hoping he'd get the point. It seemed to work. "I need to call you back later," he said to the person on the other line, then hung up looking at me with curiosity.

"So, our star reporter has returned," he said in that slimy way of his. "I assume you have that article ready to hand in?" I almost sneered, but held back, trying my hardest to stay as professional as I could.

"Actually, I came to hand in my resignation letter. I quit," I said, feeling a weight lift off my shoulders at my words.

Now I really had his attention. He sat up, back ramrod straight in his chair as a frown began to form on his face. "What?" he asked, his voice growing louder with each word. "You can't quit! You have to write that article and believe me Bella, I will make it hell for you to find another job!" The usually self assured Laurent actually looked worried that he might not get his way for once.

"Actually, I'm sure I will be able to get a great job based off the merits of the article I'm writing for _Time_," I told him, almost smugly. He gaped at me, speechless for once in his life.

"Wha-what do you think you're doing?" he finally asked, and I could only smile at his shock.

"I refuse to work for someone with such immoral and unethical standards. It's not all about getting a story, and screwing with your own reporters for one is just too much, so I'm done," I stated emphatically, feeling better for the first time in days.

"Don't think you are going to get a good employee recommendation from me," he snarled, his face reddening as he grew more and more angry.

"I was never expecting it." I threw my resignation letter on his desk and walked out the door finally free from a boss I'd always disliked and a job I had been beginning to suspect I'd never advance in.

As soon as I was out the door, I pulled out my cell phone. It was time to call Alice. I'm sure she was worried about me. She'd come over to my apartment the night before knocking and hollering my name before she gave up and finally entreated me to call when I was ready.

"Bella," she said as soon as she picked up the phone, "are you okay? Do you need me to come over? I can be there in a few minutes."

"Slow down, Alice," I said. "I'm not even at home right now. I actually just quit my job, and I'm headed home to start work on the article. I'm really not up to talking right now, but I will call later, I promise. I just need a little time and space."

"Bella, you know Edward was heartbroken right?" she asked hesitantly.

My heart jumped at hearing his name spoken aloud. "He'll get over it. It won't take him long," I surmised. Alice just sighed on the other end as if she didn't believe me.

"I doubt that. He's probably waiting for you to come to your senses and admit you can't live without him," she countered. I snorted at that thought. He probably had tons of girls already waiting in the wings, vying for his attention. I doubted he'd be lonely for much longer. If anything, knowing him as well as I did, he was probably quite angry with me, thinking that I'd used him.

"You really need to work on your self-confidence," she stated, but thankfully let it drop. We said our goodbyes and rather than contemplate on her words any longer I turned up the radio. Some angry sounding rock music was on, fitting my mood perfectly as I drove home.

Once I was home, I turned on the news wondering if anything had happened while I was secluded. The first headliner was about Olympic swimming and I almost turned it off, but the large picture being shown of Jacob Black deterred me. As the story unfolded, I could hardly believe what I was hearing. It seemed that despite Jacob's unwavering insistence that Edward was doping, it turned out that his self righteous attitude was merely a ploy to turn suspicion off of him. He had tested positive for doping himself and was going to be stripped of his medals. I couldn't help but cheer inwardly that he'd gotten his comeuppance. Somehow it seemed fitting that the man who'd worked so hard to make Edward's Olympic experience miserable was finally getting his payback.

I sighed and turned off the news. It was time I kept my word to Edward and his parents and wrote that article. I turned on my laptop and sat on the couch, contemplating how best to start. I remembered all the conversations we'd had, our first meeting, his trust in me to share his deepest secrets, and the way I'd felt in his arms. Suddenly I knew exactly what I was going to write.

* * *

EPOV

Never in a million years had I thought that the 2008 Beijing Olympics would be a source of such joy and on the other side of the coin, such unendurable pain.

Ever since Bella had walked out the morning after our amazing night together, I hadn't been able to take even the slightest interest in the endless parade of celebratory events. For once, even, Carlisle hadn't lectured me about my lack of gratitude.

It was almost as if he'd finally understood what I'd loved and lost and that no matter how much I was celebrated for being one of the greatest Olympic swimmers ever, deep down, I was still unbearably alone.

After nights of sleepless contemplation, I'd finally come to the conclusion that Bella had either 1) pretended to like me in order to get a better story or 2) she'd cared about me, but not enough to take the endless media circus that followed my every move. Either way, my proposal had obviously scared her off, and deep down, I couldn't even bear to blame Bella.

In retrospect, the proposal, while at the time seeming like a fantastic idea that enabled me to secure Bella for all time, had been exactly the opposite. So despite my brain wanting to call her a lying, disloyal bitch, my heart couldn't bear the thought that she'd betrayed me. So I bore the full load of the guilt for Bella's departure on my own shoulders.

We were just about leave Beijing to fly to London, where I'd pass on the Summer Olympics baton. Standing in the Beijing airport, I couldn't help but be reminded of the first conversation I'd ever had with Bella—when she'd run me over with her luggage cart and weaseled her way into my heart so effortlessly I'd been left simply gaping after her.

The flash of pain was, by now, routine, but this time it was stronger. Harder. So bad that I was beginning to think that maybe this wasn't something I could legitimately get over. I had been _so sure _that Bella was the girl for me, that it was incredibly difficult to even comprehend me meeting someone else who could fill the gaping crater that was left of my heart.

_"Oh me? I'm fine. Though if Carlisle had seen you do that, you might have been locked up in a Chinese dungeon."_

"_Run over your toe?"_

"_You obviously know who I am." _

_She rolled her eyes at me, a bit sarcastically I thought. "Uh yeah. You're pretty famous_

_"What? What's so bad about being famous?" she countered to my actions._

_In answer I pointed to the shiny white badge I had grown to despise. I could barely keep the scowl off my face._

"_You hate the press?"_

"_Are we off record?" _

_"Of course, do you really think we'd be on the record after I cause a whole glassful of water to be spilled on you and then I run over your golden toe with my luggage?"_

_I sighed in relief. "Really, its fine." I replied, not quite able to contain my own smile of relief._

_"It better be, if I was responsible for killing your toe right before the Olympics I'd get tarred and feathered and run out of town."_

_Finally she'd left me with an opening to show my interest! "I'd never allow that," I told her, hoping that she would notice how much I meant it._

_Suddenly, a strange look crossed her face. She looked...worried or incredulous, I wasn't sure which. "Well, good" she said almost hesitantly to me._

"Edward?" Esme asked kindly, breaking my reverie, "do you need anything before we get on the plane?"

Yes, I did need something. My heart back. Bella back in my arms. Now.

Instead of again ranting at my poor mother about my missing sanity, I simply shook my head, but somehow my eyes must have communicated my feelings, because Esme put her arm around me.

"I'm so sorry," Esme murmured, and I hated the pity in her voice almost as much as I relished her sympathy.

"Let's just go get on the damn plane," I barked, pushing the luggage cart forward, and trying desperately, but in vain, to forget the last time I'd been in this very spot.

* * *

Our flight to London was uneventful, and the event typical in its over-the-top celebratory way. I went through the motions, and was probably very good at it, but Esme knew, and her sad eyes followed me as I took pictures with fans and signed hundreds of autographs.

I was lying in bed after when there was a quiet knock on the door. I almost yelled at her to _please _for the love of God, leave me be, but the manners Esme had ingrained in me barely prevented me from making such an ass of myself.

The door opened and Esme stepped inside, a worried expression creasing her forehead.

"Edward, there's something you should see."

"What?" I asked listlessly, literally not caring at all. Without Bella, after all, what was there to truly care about? Swimming records? Races? Promotional deals?

I would leave all of that behind if only I could have Bella back with me tonight.

She hesitated, just for a split second, and that told me all I needed to know. Somehow, she had news of Bella. Every particle inside me shrunk until I felt like I was prostrate on the floor with grief, but in reality, I managed to stay upright, looking Esme straight on in the eye like Bella was nothing to me.

"Bella's article was published. We were sent an advance copy."

Dread coalesced inside me. I almost couldn't choke the words out. "Where?"

"It was published in _Time_."

We'd expected the article to initially be published in the _Oregonian_, Bella's newspaper, and then picked up by the wires. This new change of plans was puzzling and worried me. I hoped, even with all my anger and resentment at her for leaving, that Bella was not in trouble.

I held my hand out for the magazine, and cursed that there was a noticeable tremor. I might pretend like everything was okay, but in reality, I felt that with each minute that went by without Bella, I fell to pieces a little bit more.

My fingers slid sweatily along the slick, glossy pages, and I nearly ripped a few of them in my haste to reach Bella's article.

I told myself that even if Bella had expurgated our entire relationship into the pages of _Time, _I could probably still forgive her. In fact, I nearly expected her to.

So when I finally found it, nearly in the middle of the magazine, accompanied by large photographs of me, in the pool and out, and even some with my arms around Bella, I felt the breath whoosh out of me like I'd been punched.

I hesitated for a second, and more than anything, I wanted to put the article down and leave it unread—leave Bella's real motives unknown. But I knew I couldn't. I had to know what she really thought of me.

Holding my breath, I started to read.

_The first time I met Edward Cullen, I ran over his foot in the Beijing Airport._

The first line alone had my stomach in literal knots. I knew then that this was going to be all about our relationship. I told myself, _again_, that I shouldn't be surprised. Her leaving me and not even bothering to say goodbye had told me everything I'd needed to know already. Bella, while excellent at playing the innocent and naïve reporter, apparently had no scruples about getting the real scoop.

I continued on.

_Despite endangering him bodily, he was the epitome of grace and class. He admitted he didn't like reporters ,which is why I was completely taken aback when the Cullen family asked me to write the real story on Edward Cullen._

_What follows is what I observed over the weeks I shared with Edward and his family. He truly felt blessed every race he won, and never did he feel like the gold medal was a foregone conclusion. In short, he was humble and always gracious._

_Many of you may have seen the pictures of us together and I will say that at some point, a romantic relationship did exist between us, but I feel neither prepared to comment on this or willing. I want to focus on the Edward Cullen that has fascinated the entire nation: Edward the swimmer._

_First and foremost, Edward Cullen loves his father, Carlisle . . ._

I slowly lowered the magazine and stared in astonishment and utter shock. Bella had not sold me out. Bella had refused, in fact, to comment on our relationship.

In fact, she had even said she was "not prepared."

I rolled this phrase around my head for at least five minutes, trying to think what she could possibly mean by this and it struck me that perhaps, just perhaps, the ring had scared Bella away.

What if she had left not because she wanted to, but because my precipitous action had terrified her?

There was a clear and possibly deep affection radiating from her words. Though she steadfastly did not mention our relationship once, it was hard not to see from the article that she cared, and perhaps even cared deeply.

I read Bella's article fifteen times by my count, and stayed up all night thinking about what her words could mean. By morning, I was still unsure as to her feelings, but I did know one thing. I was going to have to ask her myself. After the article, I couldn't bear _not_ to ask.

I met Esme and Carlisle downstairs for breakfast, and though I hadn't slept, I felt jazzed and ready to take on the challenge of confronting Bella with the emotions that were so rife in her story. But first, I had to tell Carlisle that I would be leaving London and that meant, canceling the rest of my appearance here. No doubt he'd be furious but I refused to budge. I _would _go after Bella.

Halfway through breakfast, I had finally gathered up enough courage to confront my father, and ignoring the rest of the eggs on my plate, I looked him straight in the eye. My serious expression must have been evident because Carlisle put his coffee cup down and looked back rather quizzically.

"What is it, Edward?"

"I'm leaving London. Today." I glanced at my watch casually. "In two hours, actually."

Esme gasped and it was only through sheer strength of will that I was able to keep my eyes glued to Carlisle's. I couldn't back down. Not now.

"What?" He looked angry and he sounded even angrier.

"I need to go after Bella."

I felt my mother's sympathetic stare on me, but I still didn't take my eyes off my father. His expression had morphed from grim to somewhat . . .thoughtful.

Not good, yet, but not bad either.

"You know," he said, "canceling those events will result in bad press."

"I know. And I'll reschedule, but I can't do them today. Or tomorrow. I have to go find Bella."

Strangely, Carlisle didn't address my statement, and instead he said, "I read her article. It was excellent. Exactly what we'd had in mind. I suppose you could handle a bit of bad press with that article in _Time _magazine."

My argument exactly, but I was glad Carlisle had brought it up and I hadn't had to.

"I don't care about press; I never have," I told him shortly. "I will, however, honor my obligations."

"Naturally," Carlisle answered. "Well, Esme?" He looked up at her with, to my complete shock, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Shall you call Rob and have him make the cancellations?"

I couldn't believe how relaxed Carlisle was about the whole situation. I had been so sure that I'd have to fight his wishes and that I would probably end up defying him. Him agreeing had been the last thing I'd expected.

"Edward," he continued, as Esme left the table with a huge smile in my direction, "I was incredibly proud of you when you won the gold medals. Incredibly proud. But I think maybe I am prouder right now. Go catch your flight and give Bella our best."

"I will," I told him, and turned to go but paused and turned back. I had to tell Carlisle. "The night before the last race, I thought about losing, on purpose. I didn't think I could beat your record. Bella told me I was wrong."

Carlisle smiled. "You'd be a lesser man than I think you were if you didn't question it. But thank you, son. It means a lot to me. And Bella, she's got a good head on her shoulders—don't let her get away."

"I won't," I promised.

* * *

**FYI: This is the second to the last chapter. So that means we will have one more chapter after this plus an epilogue. I know a lot of you are wondering what Bella and Edward's life will be like after the media frenzy calms down--at this point, neither Tami or I have discussed the possibility for a sequel, and I think that both of us are happy with ending it like we have planned. We'll keep you posted.**


	20. Chapter 20

**AN: Sorry for the delay guys! Tami's been sick, I went on vacation and then I had total computer fail. But everything is GREAT now and we finally have chapter 20 (THE LAST CHAPTER EXCEPT FOR EPILOGUE) for your reading enjoyment!!!!  
**

**Couple of pieces of business. First, both Tami and I want to thank EVERYONE for being an incredibly supportive audience. The response on this story has been incredible and we are continually amazed by how much everyone loves it. Second, thanks again for nominating us for a Bellie Award for Best Collaboration! We are honored to be with such great writers and hope that you'll vote for us! Go to www[DOT]catt[DOT]net OR there will be a link on my (bethaboo's) profile for voting. Voting ends February 25th so huuuuuurrry!!!!!**

**Lastly, I listened to some music while writing the EPOV and I find it amusing that Tami kind of continued the theme. The song that inspired me a lot was John Mayer's "Split Screen Sadness." Make sure you look it up on youtube, it's an absolutely gorgeous song.**

**And yeah, this epic AN is FINALLY over so let's get on with the reunion!!!!**

* * *

EPOV

The promise I'd made to not let Bella continue to run away wasn't just one I'd made to my father. It was also a promise that I vowed to myself and that I didn't stop repeating in my head the whole flight from London to New York and then from New York to Chicago and from Chicago to Portland.

It was an endless parade of airports and bad food and loneliness. But I swore that it was the last time I'd have to make a trip like this alone. Bella would be with me next time.

By the time I reached Portland, I was exhausted and grumpy and more than ready to see Bella and finally have the conversation in person that I'd been having in my head for the last few days.

Every time Bella told me in my head that she was done with me, I simply renewed my determination that I would get her back. Ultimately though, I'd learned nothing from all these pointless dialogues except maybe that I should be locked up for talking to myself.

I tramped into the concourse, trying to keep my hood down. I'd been lucky to remain largely anonymous so far, but I knew that wouldn't last.

Passing a news stand, I noticed that at least three quarters of the magazines on the rack had my face on their covers. Tucking my head further into my hood, I approached the stand, and searched for the issue of _Time_. I hadn't thought to bring it with me to Portland, but in retrospect I decided it might not be a bad thing to have with me when I approached Bella because, really, her feelings were written between every line. Faced with the evidence of her love, she could hardly deny it to me.

Unfortunately, I couldn't seem to find _Time_—which struck me as exceedingly odd. I glared at _US Weekly _and its cover of Bella and I kissing rather passionately, and wondered if I should ask someone if they were holding all the copies of _Time _hostage, but before I could decide, an old grizzled man walked around the corner of the stand.

"Can I help you?" he asked politely, and I prayed he wouldn't connect my face to the extremely similar one gracing all the magazines that he was selling.

"I'm looking for the latest issue of _Time_," I told him in a low voice, half-turning away from him.

"Ain't got a single issue left," he told me, and I nearly gaped at the man.

"Not a single one?" I questioned.

"Nope," he said, shaking his head. "They're sold out everywhere. There's some great article about that swimmer who won all those medals. Edward Cullen."

I couldn't deny that it was a great article. "I've heard it was fantastic," I said. "I just wanted to read it for myself. Thanks for your help anyway."

He turned to go, but something caught his eye past my shoulder and he got one last look at my face right as I stepped into a shaft of light coming from one of the windows overhead in the terminal.

From the way the man's face paled, I knew he'd finally connected the dots and recognized me.

"Oh my god, _you're _Edward Cullen," he gasped, pointing a shaking, wavering and extremely wrinkled finger in my direction. I knew that if he didn't keep his voice down, it was only a matter of time before a mob descended.

"Uh, yeah, that's me," I said, forcing myself not to blush or look embarrassed in any way. _You should be used to this by now—and it's only going to get worse._

The magazine man looked like he was about to go in shock or maybe even cardiac arrest. He simply kept pointing at me and gasping out, "Edward Cullen," with increasing volume.

I pulled my hood down even farther to cover my face and hissed at him, "I'll give you an autograph, but you've got to keep it down."

Either he suddenly didn't understand English or he was too far gone to even care what I said, because he started yelling and waving his arms, every so often pointing to me.

Finally in frustration, I pulled my hood off and tried to slink behind one of the racks, but it was too late. One person after another had spotted me due to the interfering man's loud gesticulations, and before I could even grasp what was happening, a crowd had surrounded the newsstand.

I couldn't help it; I totally panicked. Never before had I been surrounded like this with no backup, no security—and worst of all, though I hated admitted it, no Carlisle.

My heart rate escalating and people closing in around me, yelling and shoving pieces of paper and pens in my face, all I wanted to do was drop through the floor and disappear forever. Maybe Bella and I could take an extended vacation until this all blew over—maybe to the Caribbean or a far off island, but definitely somewhere that had never heard of the Olympics because I didn't think I could handle this kind of scrutiny and mobbing on a regular basis.

"Wait," I yelled as loud as I could. "You've got to _back the fuck up_." I put all the authority I could into my voice with the hope that my status as a famous athlete and celebrity would force them to listen.

The crowd around me thankfully stilled and quieted, clearly waiting to hear what else I was going to say.

"Does anyone have a copy of _Time_?" I asked calmly. Carlisle had told me once that if the authority figure remains calm, the attitude will often rub off onto the followers. I was praying that in that moment he hadn't just been talking out of his ass.

Several hands popped up with copies of the magazine. I took a copy from the woman closest to me, grabbed a sharpie out of someone else's hand and carefully and clearly signed the cover.

The woman, who was in her early thirties with a cute brown bob, smiled at me, not with adoration in her eyes but simple understanding. I decided she might be the only non-crazy person here.

"It must be hard," she said sympathetically, as I handed the magazine back. "I read the article that Bella Swan wrote, and it was beautiful. Is it true that you've broken up?"

"That isn't in the article, is it?" I asked with alarm.

"Oh no, that's what Perez is reporting," she said a bit sheepishly. "But then I saw you here in the airport, and thought maybe you were here to see her. I've heard she lives in Portland."

The crowd around us was listening intently to our conversation, no doubt ready to steal anything I said and sell it to the closest media outlet, but I continued talking anyway. Better interested listeners than a frantic mob.

"She does," I confirmed, "and I _am _here to see her. We've had a bit of a . . .falling out. But I'm going to fix it."

"Oh dear," she said with sympathy brimming out of her brown eyes. "I hope you can."

"I _have _to. I love her. I want to marry her." I figured that as long as I was confessing all my business to a group of total strangers, I might as well go all in. For some unearthly reason, this was completely different than confiding my private life to a reporter. It was almost as if I suddenly felt amazingly connected to my fans in a way I never had before. All the guards and security that Carlisle had insisted on had just been another layer of protection between me and the world and though they'd prevented me from filtering into the world, an unrealized and hidden side effect had been that the world had been blocked from my view too.

I'd lost touch with my fans. I'd lost that intrinsic connection to those that followed me and cared about me—in reality, I'd almost lost touch with myself.

I realized, too, that this was what I'd loved so much about Bella's article. She'd delivered the real me back to the fans, and though she knew I wouldn't like it, she'd told the unvarnished truth about Edward Cullen, both the swimmer and the man. She'd only left out Edward Cullen the lover, and for that, I was eternally grateful. Though I was experiencing an unprecedented reconnection with the people who loved me, there were still some things that I wanted—no, that I _needed_—to keep secret.

A man in his late twenties next to the woman, patted me on the back and I saw the camaraderie of a similar quest in his eyes. "Go get her back, man. Don't let her get away."

"Don't worry, she won't," I reassured him and myself. Even though I'd presented a united front to both Carlisle and Esme and the world, deep down I wasn't as sure as I pretended to be.

What if, horror of all horrors, Bella slammed the door shut in my face?

I contemplated this hideous possibility, my stomach flip-flopping into dozens of knots, as the woman organized everyone into a queue and I signed autograph after autograph.

When everyone was finally done and my hand was cramping from all the signatures, I snuck off with the benefit of the PDX Airport Security and caught a cab to Bella's apartment.

While I was in the air, Carlisle had emailed me the address of Bella's apartment, obtained from the newspaper she'd worked at before quitting and freelancing for _Time_. There was also some other rather intriguing information that he'd found out while getting the address, and I filed it away in my brain to tell Bella when everything was hashed out and forgiven.

To my surprise, there was no steady drizzle of rain. Bella had made it point several times to tell me how much I'd hate living in Oregon due to the nearly constant cover of cloud and rain, but as I looked out the cab window onto the beautiful landscape of downtown Portland, I knew she was wrong. I'd lived for many years in Southern California but I was adaptable enough. Somehow, this place suited Bella down to the ground and if it was what made her happy, I'd gladly move here too.

By the time we pulled up to Bella's address, a cute little apartment building in a suburb of Portland, I was sick with nerves. What if she slammed the door in my face? What if she wouldn't even open the door to begin with?

I had to admit I wasn't surprised to see the several news vans parked in the lot. I paid the taxi and tried to walk nonchalantly to the stairs that led to Bella's apartment, hoping that the reporters wouldn't notice my distinctive form. No doubt they'd been waiting for this moment since Bella had returned to Portland.

For once luck seemed to be on my side and I reached Bella's door with nobody visibly emerging from either of the vans.

Breathing deeply, I knocked hesitantly on the door. I'd already decided that getting Bella back was probably going to be the thing I remembered most about the Beijing Olympics—it was certainly the hardest thing I'd ever done, anyway.

Bella didn't answer the door immediately and my heart staccatoed out of control. Then I heard her footsteps walking towards the door, and I listened hard, wondering if maybe the sounds were simply a figment of my imagination wishing hard that she was in fact walking towards me.

But apparently it wasn't only my fervent wish that was pulling her towards me—it was actually reality as I heard her call out, "For god's sake, just _leave me alone_."

Uh oh. She must think I was a reporter, camping out on her doorstep. Well, I was perfectly willing to camp out on her doorstep, but I sure as hell wasn't a reporter. I was debating if I should speak up and inform of her of the truth, when the door opened unceremoniously and Bella's glaring face appeared in the open crack.

The glare immediately dissipated from her face, to be replaced by a shocked, open-mouthed stare.

"Edward," she stammered, looking more surprised than happy, "what are you doing here?"

I thought it would be perfectly obvious to Bella what I was doing here, and maybe it was to her too—she was just saying it just to say something.

"I'm here to see you," I said simply, extending my hands towards her.

The composure on Bella's face cracked then and she hesitated, but before I could figure out what she was about to do, the door was slammed in my face.

I sighed and leaned against the opposing wall. "Bella, please," I shouted, hoping my voice would carry through the wood of her door. "Open the door."

There was no response, and it was at this moment that a woman, undeniably a reporter, popped her head around the staircase, saw me, and let out a gasp.

Great. This whole situation had just gone from good to bad to even worse.

BPOV

I leaned against the door, afraid that my legs were going to collapse. I was shaking, wondering if all my daydreams of seeing Edward again had caused me to finally go crazy. It was probably another reporter, one who resembled Edward and I'd foolishly let my imagination get the worst of me. He was probably collaborating with the other reporter outside, gleefully noting that I'd called him Edward, ready to spill the beans the moment he got the scoop.

But what if it really was him? What was he doing here on my doorstep? And why did he have a reporter in tow? Could he be here for revenge--in anger and retribution for me leaving him like I had? The more I thought about it, the more I realized how implausible this really was. Edward had always been a gentlemen towards me, and was more likely to keep his anger hidden then display it for the world. Maybe he was here because he had read the article and wanted to let me know what he thought, whether good or bad. That seemed like a perfectly good explanation.

_Or_, a little voice in my head chimed in, _he's here because he still loves you and wants you back. _I felt my heart jump at the thought as I began replaying our moments together. Him laughing at one of my more clumsy moments, or something I said. Holding my hand for the first time, kissing me for the first time, and then kissing me in front of the world. Our quiet conversations as we snuggled together in his bed, sharing our deepest secrets. And finally, his eyes full of love as he asked me to be his wife. I ruthlessly quelled this idea, trying not to get my hopes up. I was the one that had chosen to leave him in the first place, and frankly, I knew I deserved the loneliness and heartache I'd been experiencing. Edward was probably over me already, and came to thank me.

I heard the murmur of voices outside my door, and knowing that I'd eventually have to talk to him, or at least see if it really was him standing on my doorstep, I sighed and opened the door. I gasped. He was real. Edward really was here, looking as breathtakingly handsome as always. He glanced up from the top of the staircase where he was talking to a dark haired reporter. "Bella, wait," he said as I was about to close the door again, "I need to talk to you!" Our eyes met and time seemed to stop as I was held captive by the almost pleading look in his eyes.

I froze, knowing that I didn't have any other option. Knowing how determined and dedicated Edward was when he wanted something, he'd probably camp out on my doorstep until I finally gave in. If I shut the door on him again, I'd only be delaying the inevitable. I opened the door wider, silently inviting him in to my apartment. He leaned down toward the reporter and murmured something too quiet for me to hear and walked towards my door. I stood back on quivering legs, allowing him to enter, then shut the door behind him and locked it for good measure.

I turned around to find Edward watching me, amusement in his eyes. "You know how they can be," I explained somewhat defensively. "Yesterday I made the mistake of not locking the door and one actually walked in!" He didn't say anything, but did nod his head in agreement with me. An awkward silence descended over the room and I fidgeted, not knowing what to do. In all of our previous interactions, I'd never felt this uncomfortable in his presence, even when I'd seen him first on the airplane. I finally motioned for him to follow me into the living room and watched as he sat on the couch.

He looked good, although a little thinner than I was used to seeing him. He also looked like he hadn't been sleeping very well. Probably because of the press hounding him constantly. I could safely say I knew something about that now. Looking at him sitting in my living room was bringing every emotion I'd been so unsuccessfully trying to bury back to me. I wanted to throw myself in his arms and beg him to take me back, to love me again. But, I knew I couldn't. I'd made this choice and I was going to live with it. Edward probably despised me, probably thought that I used him like so many other people had before.

I sat in the chair across from him, willing my emotions under control. Somehow, I knew I was going to be the one to have to break the silence. "What do you want, Edward?" I asked, my voice harsher than I'd intended as I tried to hide its quaking.

His voice was soft when he answered me. "I read the article." He was watching me intensely, taking in my expression as he said it. I felt a mixture of relief and disappointment. So he _had _come to talk to me about the article.

"Oh," I stated, not knowing what else to say. He remained silent. "Was it okay?" I asked hesitantly, knowing that they'd trusted me and hoping it was what they'd had in mind.

"Bella, how can you even ask that?" Edward asked. "It was perfect. Better than I even dreamed, really. I know we were expecting a lot out of you, but you did so much more. You made me seem human somehow, not the superhuman swimmer that everyone saw me as before and during the Olympics, but a person with feelings, goals and dreams. I have to admit that it wasn't what I was expecting and at first, maybe I was a little put off by it. I wasn't expecting it to be so personal, but I realize now that you accomplished something that I doubt any other journalist could have. You captured the real me."

"So you liked it?" I asked happily, so glad that I'd at least done that for him.

"I loved it. One of the reasons I actually came here was to thank you. So, thank you for putting so much time and effort into this and creating something brilliant," he said seriously. He leaned forward in his seat as if he was going to touch me, then hesitated and sat back again.

I was shocked. I'd been expecting him to spout words of anger at me at the very least, but here he was thanking me for the article. "I just wrote about you, Edward. About the person that I came to know in Beijing. It really wasn't that hard," I added, trying to keep the love I felt for him out of my voice. While it had been easy to come up with the words to write, it had been incredibly difficult for me to remember our conversations and interactions with one another, time with him I'd thought to never experience again. But here he was, looking at me with such intensity that my breath caught.

"Y-you said there was something else you came here for?" I asked quietly, not daring to hope that he wanted me back.

He sat forward in his seat and this time reached forward and grabbed both of my hands in his before I could pull away. The shock of his skin on mine set my heart to beating rapidly and I longed to be closer to him. "Actually, there is. I know that we didn't part on the best of terms, if any terms at all. I must admit that when I read your note, I was devastated. Waking up and expecting to find you in my arms, then to have you gone was the worst feeling I've ever experienced. It was worse than if I'd lost all the races in Beijing."

I looked away from him in shame. "I'm sorry, Edward. It really was never my intention to hurt you like that. I just," I started, but Edward interrupted me by putting his hand on my cheek and turning my face toward his so I could meet his eyes.

"Shh, Bella. Just listen to me first," he said gently and I nodded my head as tears came to my eyes. "I was angry at first. So angry that I didn't talk to anyone, even the press, for fear that I'd lash out at them. I admit I felt used and betrayed, that I knew you and then you changed into this totally different person who only wanted to get ahead in her career. It didn't jive with the Bella I had come to know, but it was the only explanation I could come up with for you leaving me like that. At first I waited in dread for a TV report with you dishing all about me, or an article to come out in a tabloid, but it didn't happen and I gave up even looking. I figured then that you may have cared about me, but not enough to be with me and live my life with me. That was painful, but it was something I could understand. It eased the hurt a little. At least you hadn't used me, but you still weren't there. I realized that my life before you, where I had thought that swimming was all that mattered, was one that was empty and unfulfilled. That it wasn't until I met you that my life had meaning and the whole world seemed brighter. I retreated from the world as much as I could, not even spending time with my family and limiting my time with anyone else. It wasn't long before I knew that I'd even give up swimming to have you in my life. That's how much you mean to me, Bella," he finished intently.

I was in awe that he was sitting there telling me this. "I-I don't know what to say, Edward. I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I thought you would get over me quickly, would realize what different worlds we come from and see that I would never fit in. I thought that away from it all--the stress and tension--that your feelings would fade," I explained, crying harder. He had been experiencing the same type of pain I had ever since I'd left. I couldn't believe otherwise as he described his feelings and saw the agony in his eyes as he remembered.

"Is that why you left?" he questioned sharply and I looked up at him confused. "Did you leave because you're feelings were going to fade, or you thought that mine would?"

"I thought that everything would change and you'd realize that I'm not for you, so I left to save us from further pain later on," I explained.

"Bella, I can promise you this. You are everything to me. I don't care how different our worlds are, or how hectic our lives get, I will always feel the same way about you. I love you, and that's never going to change," he declared emphatically. "I'm only sorry that I didn't come for you sooner. It took me reading the article to come to my senses."

I looked up at him in wonder. How could I not believe him? He'd come here to talk to me, even after I'd broken his heart. Now I needed to decide if I wanted to risk all for him, or retreat to my safe harbor that had been making us both miserable in the first place.

"Bella?" he questioned at my silence. "Do you still feel the same way, that we could never make it because of my fame? Because if you do, you know I'm just going to keep coming back until you realize that we belong together. You're not going to get rid of me so easily this time."

This was it. The time to make a decision, and this time I knew what it would be. I wasn't going to let my fears get in the way of happiness with the man of my dreams, the only man that I knew now that I had ever truly loved. I knew what I had to say. "I'm sorry I hurt you Edward and I can't promise to never doubt and to never be scared again, because this is all so new to me, so real and unlike anything I ever expected, but I do love you. I think I started to fall in love with you the minute I ran over your toe with the luggage cart, maybe even when I humiliated myself by knocking over the stewardess. Every moment we spent together, I just fell more and more under your spell. Leaving was the hardest thing I ever did, and to be honest, I don't think I'd have the strength to do so again even if I wanted to. And I'm never going to want to," I declared and he pulled me into his arms and held me so tightly against his chest I could barely breathe.

"We'll take it slow if you want to, but Bella, I'm going to marry you someday. The ring is yours whenever you're ready, but just so you know, I can move to Oregon so you can keep your job, but I'm not living apart from you ever again," Edward growled possessively in my ear.

I laughed in pure joy, elated that he was here in my arms, and this time we were going to let nothing stand in our way. "Actually Edward, I am jobless at the moment," I said pulling back to look at his shocked expression. "I quit," I stated proudly. "Laurent and I had different ideas as to what constitutes good journalism."

"I wondered why the article came out in _Time_ first," Edward mused. "Well, these are details that we can work out later, but first, there's something that I've been dying to do since the minute you opened your door looking all fierce and ready to do battle with the evil press. But I have to tell you, when Carlisle called to get your address, he found out that apparently Laurent's boss decided that he was a complete idiot for forcing you to leave, so Laurent was apparently fired and if I hear correctly, he's been blacklisted." I smiled at Laurent's karma, but was cut off as Edward's lips met mine in a slow, sweet kiss that healed all the hurts I'd caused. I was finally home, with the man I loved. Edward was right. We could work all the details out later. We had the rest of our lives together.


	21. Epilogue

**AN: I have to apologize for how long this has taken. Tami and I had no intention of making everyone wait for months to see the epilogue. Unfortunately with the complications tied to her pregnancy, the wait _did _happen. I do apologize and I hope everyone prays or thinks or hopes or wishes for Tami in the next few weeks as she prepares to finally have her baby. Because of her health, unfortunately Tami was not able to help me write the epilogue, however, this is the same epilogue that we talked about writing all the way back when we started GftG.**

**I want to thank everyone who has reviewed or favorited or even just read GftG. This was the little story that could, and I am so appreciative (and I know Tami is too) that everyone was so incredibly supportive. We appreciate it more than you can even realize.**

**Specifically I want to thank my great friend and cheerleader, EE, with whom this would never have been written. He is the greatest support that any girl could ever hope to have. Oh and if you hate this, really it's his fault because he told me it was awesome (kidding!).**

**ENJOY!  
**

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BPOV

"Edward, you _really_ need to calm down," I said, not even bothering to hide my rolling eyes from him. He glared back, but I could see the telltale smirk blossoming at the corner of his mouth.

"Seriously," I said blithely, ignoring the fact that my own heart was thumping rather arhythmically and my palms were clammy and damp. I told myself that there was nothing to be anxious about, but ultimately, even though I'd love my daughter regardless, I was _still _nervous for her.

And if I was nervous, then Edward, who had been the competitive one of the family until Stephanie came along, was a wreck. I reached over and gave his hand a supportive squeeze and nearly gasped when he absentmindedly clenched back with what must have been quite a lot of his arm strength. For a man in his mid-forties, Edward was still exceptionally strong, likely because he made it a point of personal pride to swim every day still.

I glanced sideways at my husband, and even though we'd been married for twenty years now, I couldn't help but smile nearly every time I saw him. He was still a handsome man, with his still-thick bronze hair and piercing green eyes. Each morning when I woke up next to him, I reminded myself that I was the luckiest woman on earth. Edward Cullen was _my _husband and we were still madly and completely in love.

A young girl waved to us from far below, her dark green eyes a splash of color in her pale beautiful face. I felt Edward's hand tighten around mine and I must have let out a strangled sound of pain because he immediately loosened his grip and gave me an apologetic smile.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Edward said sheepishly and I honestly would have laughed at the outpouring of nervous energy, but deep down I understood. Edward wasn't very good at handling stressful situations when he had zero impact over the outcome.

And today, at the 2028 Olympics, Edward was simply a spectator.

"She'll be fine," I reassured him. "She's done everything she can to prepare for this moment. You helped her as much as you could."

I knew Edward wished he could have done more. Edward always put 1,000% into everything he did, and I knew that it was killing him that he had to just sit here, in the stands, and watch his only daughter compete without him.

"If only she could have been a swimmer," he whined and I laughed. This was a common complaint from Edward, and though it was a common enough joke in our family, I thought that perhaps, deep down, he meant it.

When Stephanie had been born, she'd spent a lot of time near the water and even more inside the water, always being carried by her adoring father. I knew Edward had harbored notions of a three generation swimming dynasty, but it was not to be. When Stephanie was five years old, we'd gone skiing in Aspen because Edward decided he needed a new athletic outlet.

Ironically, he'd been hopeless with his long limbs and he'd complained vehemently at his clumsiness. However, it was Stephanie who had taken to the skis like a duck to water. Edward had taken one look at her laughing form as she coasted down the baby hill on her third try and by the end of the week, we'd been the proud owners of a ski lodge.

Each year it seemed like we spent more and more time in Colorado, and when Stephie was only ten she begged her father for a snowboard instead of a new pair of skis. He'd relented, like he always did—I was forever telling him that he spoiled Stephanie silly—and after that particular season, Edward and I had a very serious talk about whether we wanted our daughter to participate in competitive activities.

Edward, of course, was all for it. He was a Cullen—and that was what actually made up the majority of his argument. "She's a Cullen, it's in her blood," Edward had argued relentlessly until finally I'd given in, throwing up my hands in defeat.

"Fine," I'd told him, "it's up to you and her."

Stephie took to competition just like her father had predicted. Even though her water was frozen, she was definitely a Cullen. Edward, of course, wanted to be as involved with her snowboarding as Carlisle had been with his swimming. Unfortunately, Edward was as hopeless on a snowboard as he was on skis, so he'd had be content with taking over her workout regime. His goal was to make sure she was the fittest girl on the amateur team. Though she occasionally whined about his obsessive tendencies, I could definitely see that my daughter had followed in her father's footsteps. I hadn't seen anyone as driven to succeed since Edward.

And just like Stephanie and Edward had planned together, here she was, seventeen and at her first Olympics. Truth was, though she was the novice here and Edward the expert, she was handling it a lot better than he was.

Edward had let go of my hand and was now fidgeting with the rolled up newspaper in his hand. He'd been furious that every reporter had immediately jumped on the father-daughter angle like they were re-inventing the wheel. Both Stephie and I tried, unsuccessfully, to prevent him from speaking to his lawyer—who had just looked at him like he was nuts at trying to prevent publicity.

Finally, he'd given in and given a handful of requisite interviews, but he'd maintained that Stephanie's presence here was by her choice only, and that no matter what happened, he'd support her regardless. Any questions about her going into swimming instead of snowboarding had gotten the Cullen blank look that after twenty years of marriage I was infinitely familiar with.

He'd deliberately downplayed the importance of her results, over and over again, and I knew he'd simply been holding it all in. He cared intensely—he wouldn't be the Edward I knew and loved if he didn't. He knew how hard Stephie had been training for this moment and he wanted her to feel how tremendous success after perseverance was.

I heard him mumble under his breath, "She's a _Cullen_, by god," and the edges of the newspaper shredded under his tight grasp.

I couldn't help but laugh at his worry. "Edward, she'll be fine. She looked like she was ready. I think you might be more nervous than she is."

He met my eyes then, and the anxiety in the green depths worried me. I was so afraid that at the last moment he'd betray it to Stephie, and then she would have to go through her first Olympic experience with the kind of pressure that Edward had had to experience.

We'd talked about that last fateful Olympics many times over the years, and the more distance Edward had from the moment itself, the more he began to understand how miraculous it was that he hadn't cracked under the unbearable pressure and stress. He would often joke that it had been _my _presence that had saved him, and I always rolled my eyes at this patent fallacy and teased that he'd brown-nosed me enough.

"She'll be fine, Edward," I reassured him one last time, and I prayed that he wouldn't keel over from the stress before the round even began.

"You think?" he asked and it seemed that he genuinely did not know.

"Of course. Would I lie to you?" I teased, trying to lighten his mood.

He nodded his head vigorously and I laughed. "Maybe just about vegetables and TV shows and stupid stuff, but never about Stephie."

"You know, I've been thinking," he said rather seriously. "I don't think it was so much that I was a Cullen that got me through Beijing. It was you."

"Not this again," I laughed. "Seriously, Edward, I'd be crazy to believe that me, a simple girl you had _just _met, got you through the most stressful two weeks of your life."

"But you did, Bella. I think I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. Those beautiful brown eyes," he said, his voice contemplative as his fingers grazed my cheek, "so serious, so nervous, but so determined. Brave. Empathetic. I knew you would be important to me."

Every other time I had laughed him off as being ridiculous and trying to stay out of the dog house, but today, with his dead serious expression, all the love in the world in his eyes, and with our daughter about to compete for her own gold medal, I could do nothing but simply nod my acquiesance. Maybe he really believed that my presence at that time in his life had actually been not only providential but life-changing.

"I won those gold medals for you, Bella," he continued and there was so much love in his voice that I wanted to cry. Some girls never got a real love, not even for one year, but I'd had this incredible love for twenty now. When Alice had told me before Beijing that I was meant for great things, I'd never believed that she'd meant this, but now I knew that she was right. Maybe great things didn't have anything to do with accomplishments, but only with the happiness of those you loved. Edward would never have been satisfied with a subpar showing in Beijing. He would have settled for nothing less than those six gold medals and if I was able to help him, then that was all that mattered.

"Well, for myself too. And Carlisle, and Esme too, I suppose," he added with that lopsided grin that I loved so much. "But mostly for you." His voice dropped down low. "I wanted you to love me so much Bella, and I knew if I did something incredible, if I did something nobody else had done, then maybe I had a chance to win you forever."

I flung my arms around him and hugged him close. "I did love you. And I _do _love you, Edward Cullen," I murmured into his ear, feeling my eyes grow misty with tears. "Thank you. I'll never forget the moment you won that sixth race. _Never_." It was true. That moment was one of those that you replayed in your head a million times—when you were having a bad day, when you felt stressed or anxious or worried. It was one of those moments that you replayed on a day like. . . a day like today.

"She's going to do fine," I reiterated to him and this time, Edward just smiled and the worry he'd been carrying around like a cloak around his shoulders lifted for the first time since we'd arrived.

"She'll do fine," he agreed. "She's a Cullen."

And then finally, when both of us had finally managed to understand our last Olympic experience, our next one started.

"Stephanie Cullen," the loudspeaker behind us boomed and I clenched Edward's hand and his arm wrapped around my shoulders, holding me close as we prepared ourselves for the next chapter in our lives.

And guess what? Edward was right. She was fine. More than fine. That day, Stephanie Cullen was _gold _fine.

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**THANK YOU AGAIN!!!!!!**


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